Edge of Darkness
by InAHeartbeat23
Summary: When Mona Stone and her best friend, Delia Green, are brutally attacked by a gang, Mona wakes up in the hospital to find herself severely beaten and her friend dead. Burdened with grief and guilt, Mona takes it upon herself to find justice against the men who attacked her.
1. Chapter 1

**Edge of Darkness**

The streetlamps passed at irregular intervals. Some were blown out; others were winking on and off then on again as the Toyota Prius made its way down the deserted, dark road. It seemed that every time the car would pass under a small beacon of light it left the car, as well as the two passengers inside, exposed to the dangers of the night.

We were definitely in the wrong side of town, but Delia had said that it was the only way she knew how to get to and from Abby's lake house. Abby being one of our good friends we both went to school with, but whom also seemed to be good friends with everyone. It always left me wondering if she was truly genuine about who she was or if she just pretended in order to say she had friends. Either way, I had always liked her. She had thrown a party for graduating seniors in her parents' small, but quaint vacation home. More than just the senior class had shown up. Juniors, sophomores, a few freshmen, and possibly even some college kids who had attended our high school the year prior had been there. It had been way too crowded in the small house with just the group that Abby had already invited. It was downright claustrophobic after the rest of the school and then some managed to find their way there and show up. It had taken Delia and me a two hour drive to get there, but it seemed to take us twice that amount of time to find our way back. Despite being reprimanded by Abby, giving us personal directions and a map herself, we had taken several wrong turns which made me smack a hand to my face and grind my teeth together every time.

"Okay, when I say turn right next time, Di, you make a freaking right-hand turn," I said to Delia in an agitated voice. I threw the map on the dashboard, using my now free hands to rub my temples. I was tired of riding in the car and was giving myself an ulcer worrying about the part of town we had ended up in.

"Whatever you do, do not stop this car," I had warned her earlier when we had first made our way into the city. Delia had just flashed me an apologetic look. She had missed our turn for the interstate about an hour or so ago, claiming she knew where she was going only to get us lost before she found her way again; the same way we had come. Unfortunately, this way was not very favorable, but seeing as how we both didn't feel like turning around again to take the preferred route we risked going this way instead. It was faster, but it still had me sitting on the edge of my seat in paranoia.

"I don't even wanna know how you know your way around here."

"Okay, Mona. No need to crawl up my butt about it. I said I was sorry," she rolled her eyes at me. I flashed her a glare right back only to have it turn into a scowl as I noticed we were running out of gas.

"And of course, of all the places that we could run out of gas!" I exclaimed, and Delia instantly looked down at the gas gage before cursing.

"Look, right there," she said, pointing to a small, rundown gas station not even a mile up ahead. "It'll only take us five minutes and then we'll be back on the road. Nothing is going to happen, okay, Mona? We'll be fine."

"I guess we don't have much of a choice, anyway. Just hurry up, please."

We pulled up to the station and found a pump. Delia got out and hurriedly pulled out the pump to begin filling the car. Despite how much I tried to ignore it, I was parched as hell and felt like I needed water as I had never needed it before. I had drank a little too much at Abby's party and it left me feeling a bit woozy and dehydrated. Against my better judgment, I opened the door and stepped out of the car. A gust of cool air blew into me fiercely, and even though it was the middle of May it could still get well into the fiftie's at night. I pulled my jacket closer to my body.

"I'm going to get a bottle of water. Do you want anything?" I asked Delia as I shut the car door. She shook her head and turned her attention back to watching the price rise on the pump. I turned around and headed into the small store, grabbing a bottle of water as soon as I found one. There was a small line at the register, a man a few years older than myself buying some booze and a pack of cigarettes.

"Gas is freaking ridiculous," Delia said as she walked up to stand beside me. She had her wallet out ready to pay. I nodded my head before laying my head on her shoulder briefly. When the man in front of us began to gather his items, I started pulling out a couple of ones from my pocket when I heard tires screeching outside. I turned my head just in time to notice two mustangs, one black and the other red with tribal graphics on both, parked right in front of the store. Instantly, masked figures quickly got out of both cars and rushed inside, whipping out guns and yelling for everyone to get down.

I dropped my water bottle and latched onto Delia pulling her back against the counter behind me. I quickly pushed us to the right, unintentionally cornering us and the other customer.

"Get the fuck down or I'll blow your fucking head off. Get the fuck down!" yelled a man in a maroon ski mask, shoving a shotgun in our direction. "Joe, this is your man! This is your man! Get your fucking hands up!"

Delia and I both complied instantly, but the man before us was trying to sneak around and to the door.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" another robber yelled and grabbed the man, shoving him back towards us. He stood in front of both Delia and me now, his hands raised in defense. Suddenly, with such practiced motion it seemed to happen with barely any thought, the man in the maroon mask shifted his aim to his right and shot the cashier in the chest. Delia let out a bloodcurdling scream as the poor man fell to the floor, dead.

"This is your guy! Kill him or you're not one of us," he then said as he turned and grabbed the head of the man standing beside him. "You can do this," he whispered to him.

"Kill that motherfucker, Joey!" One of the other robbers yelled. Robbers. They weren't robbers. If they were, they could have grabbed the money or whatever they wanted right then and made off with it. Heaven knows that neither Delia nor I would try to stop them, and I doubted the man in front of us would either. He seemed to be shaking so hard it looked like he was _trying_ to have a seizure. It was when the masked man supposedly named Joe whipped out a machete that I knew it was much more than a robbery.

"Oh my God," Delia whimpered, and buried her face in my hair. My eyes wide with terror, I stared at Joe and maroon face as they threw daggers with their eyes at the man in front of us.

"You can do this," he repeated again, pulling Joe's head back which made his eyes go wide and I could see a sense of hesitancy in them.

"Please, don't," I barely managed to whimper. Joe quickly shifted his eyes towards mine and I hoped that my facial expression was enough to give him more second thoughts, but much to my dismay he seemed to enjoy my terror. His eyes gained a new spark as he turned them back to the man before us and swiftly swung the machete up towards him. Simultaneously, I heard the man gurgle and felt a spray of hot blood cover my face.

"That's my boy," I heard the guy with the shotgun say to Joe.

Disgusted, I tried to step back as the man fell backwards and onto me and Delia. I grabbed him as he fell and Delia scampered out of the way which unknowingly put her directly in front of the gang of murderers. Hysterical and terrified, she foolishly made a dash for the door only to be caught by the throat of another gang member who slammed her up against the wall. I tried to get up to get to her, but the bleeding man, and not to sound ironic, had a death grip on my jacket. I stumbled and fell over him, blood covering me.

"Let her go!" I yelled as I struggled to get out of my jacket. The man pulled her forward before crushing her against the wall again and again; her blond hair billowing around her red face. "Delia!"

I flung my jacket at the now bleeding man, letting him have it to put pressure on his wound and rushed forward towards Delia and the man strangling her. I was suddenly hit hard in the chest which sent me flying backwards and onto my back. I looked up to see Joe standing above me, staring down with amused eyes and a fist raised to hit me again. Before he could make contact with me, I rolled to my right and up against a stand filled with snacks which sent them tumbling onto of me. I heard Joe's fist crack as it hit the floor and I couldn't help but feel a bit smug at his pain.

"Fuck!" he yelled and I jumped up to see him kneeling over his injured hand. I kicked him as hard as I could in the face.

He let out a grunt as my foot managed to make successful contact with his jaw. He ripped his mask off clutching it, his eyes boring murderously into mine. I stared at him long enough to remember his face before I turned my head to see that Delia's had turned purple and the man was still struggling with her. I ran to him and just barely made it onto his back, wrapping my right arm around his neck before maroon face could get a hit at me. I pulled back on his neck, pinching his carotid arteries with my arm, or so I hoped I was doing. I must have been doing something correct, anyway, because he instantly let a very purple Delia go who fell to the floor limply.

"You asshole!" I screamed at him as he stumbled around and tried to pry me loose from his neck.

"Get her off of me!" He yelled to his fellow gang members, his fist slamming into my strained arm. I felt someone's fist tangle in my curly hair and yank back. The pain was fierce and I yelped, involuntarily letting go to protect myself. I flew off of the man and against someone's hard, burly chest, their hand still tangled deeply in my hair, forcing my head backwards. I felt the machete pressed against my throat now.

"No, don't fucking cut her. I want a go at the bitch."

I turned my eyes to see the man who had strangled Delia rearing his fist back, getting ready to unleash his havoc upon me.

"Not so fast, Heco," the man who was holding me said. I recognized it as maroon face. By the way he commanded attention he must have been the gang leader. I felt my body pulsing with fright. I wanted to fight against this man's hold so badly, disgusted that I was this close to him, but his choice of weaponry held me firmly in place.

"We came here and got what we wanted," he spoke casually. "We've been here for too long. This bitch and her friend ain't worth it. As much as I would love to sit here, Heco, and watch you lose your temper, we are on restricted time here."

"I'll come for you later, puta," Heco reluctantly snarled at me before maroon face removed the pressure of the machete from my throat. His grasp still firm in my hair, he spun me towards the counter which he brought my head down upon forcefully. When I next opened my eyes, I was in the hospital.

* * *

 **Hello, everybody! This is a story I wrote a loooooong time ago. Anyway, I just randomly remembered it and thought I'd post it here. I posted it to another fanfiction site when I first wrote it, but I figured I could share it here as well. IDK how many DS fans there are out there, but if you find this I hope you enjoy it! Happy reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2- Woodwork by Atlas**

I opened my eyes to a lustrous light, burning and preventing them from opening fully. I felt heavy, broken down. I felt like I had been asleep the past eighteen years of my life, my body stiff with lack of movement. When I did move, however, it felt as though I had been bagged up by Santa Claus himself, slammed across his big, hard shoulder, and taken on a sleigh ride down the chimney to hell. It even hurt to wiggle my fingers around.

"Mona?" I heard a soft voice above me. I struggled to open my eyes and keep them open, but futilely. A hand very gently brushed down the side of my face.

"Mona? Mona, sweetie, it's momma. I'm here. Open your eyes, baby," I heard bustling as swift footsteps enter the room.

"Is she awake? Mona, open your eyes. Can you open your eyes for me?"

NO! I wanted to scream to whomever this new voice belonged to. Didn't he see me struggling? I tried speaking but nothing came out, my mouth was so dry.

"Nurse, could you get us a cup of water with a straw and turn down the light. Thank you," I heard the male voice demand. The harsh light suddenly diminished and I felt my eyes water with relief. Slowly, I tried opening them, blinking severely, but managing to keep them from sliding shut.

"Oh, Mona," I heard that soft voice again. I looked over to see my mother hovering over me, tears in her big green eyes. She looked like a wreck, like _she_ hadn't slept the past eighteen years. I instantly felt worse than before.

"Mom?" I croaked.

"Mona, my name is Doctor Roderick. You are current under my care in ICU at Amherst Hospital," I looked over to match the male voice with a face. Doctor Roderick had a gentle, plump face with warm brown eyes. He looked at me comfortingly as he bent over and took my hand in his. "Trust that you have my upmost confidentiality. Right now, I need to ask you a few questions and go through the events the night you were attacked. Is that all right?"

I nodded my head as a nurse appeared with a styrofoam cup in her hand. I took it gratefully from her and sipped on it slowly. I felt my mother's hand slip in where the doctor's had been; I gripped onto it tightly.

"First of all, I want to explain the extension of your injuries," the doctor hesitated as he looked over at my mom who sat slouching in her chair, caving her body in on itself. I gave her the best smile I could muster. The doctor continued, "You were hit rather hard on the head which caused you to suffer a severe concussion. We have already given you a CT scan to check for bleeding. Although the concussion was severe, your bleeding was not. We were able to stop it during surgery. There are some contusions, but that will all heal fairly easily. We will do a few tests to see how your reactions and reflexes are. Are you feeling dizzy at all right now?"

I nodded my head once; it was in fact killing me.

"We've given you some pain medication intravenously which hopefully that has been helping. You've broken a couple of ribs and your sternum was bruised, but thankfully not fractured or broken. Your right arm has sustained a fracture in the radius and ulna," he continued to explain, picking up my right arm which was plastered in a white cast from my fingers to my elbow and pointing to where my arm had been hurt.

"What about Delia?" I interrupted him.

My mother's head snapped up instantly and I oscillated my gaze between her and the doctor. They both had somber expression on their faces. I felt my stomach drop to my knees.

"What?"

"Uhm," Doctor Roderick stuttered, "Delia was found beaten rather… severely. She had been repeatedly hit in the back of the head and her air supply had been cut off due to strangulation. When the paramedics arrived she wasn't breathing and she had no pulse. They managed to resuscitate her on the way to the hospital…," the doctor cut off and looked towards my mother who was shaking now, tears streaming relentlessly down her face.

"Could you give us a moment?" She choked out. The doctor nodded his head silently before smiling at me sympathetically and walking out, closing the door behind him.

"She's okay? She's still alive?" I questioned, wanting to believe it was true, but feeling the stabbing pang of loss deep in my heart. Slowly shaking her head back and forth, my mother avoided my gaze as she answered my questions.

"The paramedics managed to revive her in the ambulance, Mona, but… Oh, God," she cut off and sobbed deeply. She finally raised her eyes to mine, "Mona, she was in such a bad way. There wasn't anything they could do. She only lasted for five minutes before she went back into submission… I'm so sorry, honey."

The air buzzed around me. I could feel my pulse quickening, my head hammering. All of the sudden, I couldn't breathe.

"Doctor!" I saw my mother yell, but I didn't hear her. All I could hear was my ragged breathing, coming in and out frantically. She was dead. Delia was dead. Our childhood spent together, playing in our matching Sunday dresses, giggling. We shared stories of our first kiss, our first crush, our first love. Us both terrified of our first day of 6th grade, but not feeling anything compared to the nervousness we held for our first day of high school… High school. We had gotten through the first day together and we were also supposed to graduate together in two weeks. Only two weeks, but she was gone; her chance completely and utterly gone. And I never felt so alone in my entire life.

"Mona, I'm going to give you a mild sedative to help calm you down, okay?" Doctor Roderick asked me. I nodded my head. My lungs and throat were burning. He stuck a needle into my IV and soon I was taking deeper breaths. My heartbeat decelerated.

"Maybe we should just let her rest," my mother suggested worriedly.

"I think that would be for the best. I wanted to avoid this as much as possible, but there is a detective here demanding to speak to Mona."

"No, it's out of the question. She's just woken up after three days, she just found out her best friend was murdered! There's no way," my mother's voice rose shrilly. The doctor nodded.

"I'll let her know. Get some rest, Mona," he patted my hand and gave me another soft smile before exiting the room.

"Momma," I whimpered and my searching hand found hers once again. "Momma, I miss her."

"I know, baby. I'm so sorry," she wiped at my cheeks, brushing away tears I didn't know I had been crying.

Laying there in the hospital bed, feeling helpless and inconsolable, I gave into my tears and my memories. I didn't want to think about that night, anything but that night, yet it ran through my head over and over again. I couldn't stop it.

I saw her blond hair flying around her face as he repeatedly slammed her against the wall, his hand a vise-like grip around her throat. Her face was turning blue, and I was helpless to stop it. Why couldn't I have been strong enough, clever enough? I had witnessed two murders; my best friend's and a complete stranger's. Why had I been left to live?

I didn't know, and I didn't care. I just wanted to lay there and think about her. About how hard I had tried to be strong, to fight. I couldn't help but think that despite what I had did, I had lost. I had lost and I couldn't save her. I felt that maybe I wouldn't be able to save myself either.

* * *

 **What up, peeps? I remember in my original publishing of this story that I decided it would be a cool idea to suggest a song for each chapter. Well, I'm doing it again! The song is up at the beginning by the heading. It's a sad song, so it fits well with this chapter. Happy, or maybe not so happy, reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3- Autumn's Child by Devandra Banhart**

"Mona Stone? My name is Detective Wallis."

It had been exactly one week since the night Delia and I had been attacked at a gas station. I was still in the hospital, sore and aching, but healing nonetheless; physically at least. Mentally, I couldn't seem to pull myself together. It seemed one minute I was crying hysterically and then the next I was staring at the ceiling numbly, playing over all the special moments Delia and I had had together. At the moment, my memory of us at our senior prom was interrupted by the detective I had finally agreed on meeting.

I looked to her dark, outstretched hand. I took it.

"Nice to meet you."

"I'll try not to take too long. I understand Doctor Roderick is going to let you out soon. That must be something to look forward to."

I gave her a tight smile. It actually wasn't worth much to me. If it wasn't for my family, I would have preferred to waste away the rest of my life in this damn hospital bed.

"Miss Stone, I want you to replay the events that happened at the gas station Saturday night. As you know, you are the only witness we have, so if we catch the people who did this, they will be put on trial and you will have to testify."

"What if I don't want to testify?" I couldn't imagine sitting in the same room with the people who had killed Delia. I wouldn't be able to stand it.

"Then we won't have a case, and they will walk back out on the streets free to do the same thing again to somebody else. You are our only key to putting these people away. You do understand?" Detective Wallis's brown eyes were questioning. She could effortlessly see my reluctance, but I could tell that she wouldn't let me back down easily. I let my eyes drift down from her stare and I began to pick at the bed sheet as I spoke.

"You mean the man who was cut… He didn't make it?"

"No."

The man who had been cut by the machete had still been alive before I had been knocked out by the gang leader in the maroon mask. I had slight hope that maybe he had made it, but like how the rest of my week had gone since that night, I was left more than disappointed. That left three murders on my conscience now. I couldn't help but think that they all had been my fault; one more than the others.

"Okay," I said sighing, gaining my composure before I continued, "Delia and I had gotten lost on our way back home. We had been at our friend's party a couple of hours out of town, but going back home we passed our exit. We had gone quite a while before realizing it, but we both decided not to turn around. Delia had said she knew where she was at. How, I don't know. I don't see how she could have ever been through that part of town before. Anyway, we were running low on gas, so Delia pulled into the gas station and began to fill up. I was really thirsty, so I got out and walked inside to get a bottle of water. Delia had just walked in and we were about to pay when two mustangs pulled up."

"Two mustangs? Can you describe what they looked like? The year, if possible?"

"Uh, yeah. One black, the other red. The black one had red tribal looking graphics on it. The red one had black ones. They looked like they could have been from the late 60's, early 70's."

The detective jotted down my statement on her legal pad as I replayed to her the rest of what had happened that night. I told her what the man named Joe looked like, describing him in as much detail as I could. I had to stop when it came to talking what had happened to Delia. It was already too much to bear thinking about it, speaking about it aloud… It was nearly impossible.

"I want to thank you for your time, Miss Stone. I know it's been a very hard week for you. If there's anything you need," she proceeded to hand me over a business card, "give me a call. Take care."

I thanked her before she took her leave, and I was once again left alone with my memories and guilt to ravage me. I only had a couple of more days before I would be released from the hospital. Abruptly, I realized that being in this state of body and mind was not going to be acceptable once I got home. I wasn't going to let myself lie in bed and feel guilt over something that had been beyond my control. I was going to get on with my life and live it well for Delia. I owed it to her and my family more than anything. Although I didn't find it fair, it was the only gift I could think to give her.

Unless… Unless I did something more. One option was I could help the police find the men who did this, testify against them and hopefully have them all placed in jail for the rest of their miserable, pathetic lives. I could also lock myself in my room, claiming amnesia and deliria when I had given my statement to Detective Wallis and let them all walk free. Or… I could give into my guilt and anguish, my anger and enmity towards the gang of criminals that had brutal killed three innocent people, and I could take back what had been stolen from me. Yes, I could swallow the last of my pride and sense of self-preservation to go after the man who had killed my best friend. I would kill him and all the others who had hurt my family, Delia's family, and those two men and their families. Once I started I wouldn't be able to back down, and if they killed me, I hoped at least I left them thinking that I had put up a good fight; that I had fought with passion rather than blindly, like them.

I had a lot to learn and a while to heal, but I would do it with grace, acknowledging everything that I could to help me win this war. It would be a long road, but I would have to bear it with patience. I wanted to be thorough to insure the best possible outcome for myself and my family when it was over. Until I was strong and capable enough, I needed to get as much information on this gang as I could. That meant helping the police find them, but then I wouldn't be able to testify against them in court. That was fine by me. They had their chance for redemption long before they decided to show up into my life. I wasn't going to send them to jail now with the possibility of them getting out just a few short years later with nothing more than a slap on the wrist and a few months probation. It was up to just me now. I couldn't trust the legal system anymore than I could trust a pyromaniac with a gallon of gasoline and a pack of matches.

More than anything though, I just wanted to know why. Why had they entered that store just to kill? What was their motive?

 _"Kill him or you're not one of us!"_ I remembered maroon face screaming at Joe before he slit the man's throat.

One of us, I pondered. What, he had to kill someone before he could join their gang? Was that the true reason for all the damage they had caused that night? Something as trivial as being a part of some horde of maniacal thugs was motivation enough to go out and kill another human being? I couldn't understand the justification behind it. Who in their right mind could? And why had they attacked Delia? They obviously had finished with what they had been there to do, why couldn't they just have left us alone? We couldn't see any of their faces considering they had all worn ski masks. Maybe we were just the cherry on top of their otherwise festive night.

I felt I could have understood better if they had been robbing the place rather than just striking it for no other reason than for the sheer joy it brought them. Normally, I was the type of person to forget what wrong had been done onto me, choosing to believe in karma rather than revenge. This time I couldn't turn my head and look the other way. My gaze was firmly locked in one place, and that was on the vengeance I planned on returning to the men who has so kindly given it to me in the first place.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4- Lonely Soul by Unkle**

I was at the police station with Detective Wallis, staring through the one-way window at the man who had helped kill Delia and who had killed another man himself. He was young. Only a couple of years older than me it seemed. He had a slight and tall form with short, maroon colored hair; his natural dark-brown left untouched on the sides of his head. A couple of tattoos marked his neck. There were several other men lined up beside him who all looked haggard and wild, but I remembered his face all too clearly.

"Number three," I said to her.

"That's Joe Darley. He's only twenty-two and very dangerous."

"It's him…," I whispered to myself. I needed to know everything that I could about him. That's where helping Detective Wallis in finding him came in. She could give me vital information that I needed in order to carry out my plan. The more I knew the better.

"What more do you know about him?" I asked her, hoping she wouldn't find me suspicious.

"Well, he's been in and out of jail since he was old enough to be convicted. Shoplifting, possession and solicitation of drugs, drug paraphernalia, armed robbery, assault with a deadly weapon, and now hopefully for first-degree murder."

"What about the gang he was with that he killed to get into?"

"They are one of the most notorious gangs in Columbia along with several others. They've had multiple crimes committed by them and for them, most of which we were unable to convict them for. A few we have locked away; at least for now. They have caused us the most trouble the past couple of years."

"So, was it kill or be killed? That's why this Joe… Darley guy felt compelled to hurt another person, just to be in this gang?"

"Possibly, but I doubt they would have killed Darley if he hadn't have killed that man at the gas station. The Darley's own that gang"

"The Darley's?" I questions, finally tearing my gaze away from Joe and focusing on the detective.

"Two generations of men: Bones Darley and his sons Billy and Joe Darley. All of which are worthless pieces of shit."

"So, he didn't even have to… They didn't even have to…," I couldn't finish my sentence. The prospect that this boy could have easily been a part of this gang without the inexcusable necessity of killing someone had me reeling. I felt like I just had been hit again by this Joe Darley himself, knocking the breath out of me. I sat down heavily in a chair close to the one-way window, hugging my good arm around my chest and taking deep breaths.

"Hey, take it easy," Detective Wallis put her arms on my shoulders, leaning down to look at me.

"I can't. I can't testify. I can't, I won't."

I shook my head furiously. I wasn't going to let him or any of his other asshole gang members get away with what they had done. Especially after learning this; this had been the deal breaker for me.

"If you don't, this monster will be out on the streets again tonight! Do you want that?"

"I'm sorry. I just can't," I began to stand and make my way towards the door. Detective Wallis grabbed my upper arm and spun me to face the window again. My eyes instantly went to Joe Darley, standing there with a smug smile on his face, looking around. He seemed relaxed, laidback; like he didn't have a care in the world.

"If you choose to walk away from this, you will be walking away from Delia, the man that he killed and the store owner who all lay dead because of him and his friends. Are you sure you want to do that? To let him know that he can get away with doing something this inhumane? Do you want to live with that?"

"I'm not walking away, detective," I said taking my arm from her, but keeping my glare on Darley. "He'll get what's coming to him."

"So, you're the type to believe in what goes around comes around? Let me tell you, things don't always work that way, Miss Stone. If you want to do something about this, then testifying will be the only way."

"Testifying to what!?" My temper had flared now. "That Joe Darley killed a man so he can be sent to jail only to have him say a while later that he's found God, that he feels redeemed and to have his case repealed out of _sympathy_!? Are you asking if that's what I'd want because if you are that delusional to think I would even begin to want that for him...? You'd have to be about just damn near fucked up as the rest of them."

"I'm not saying it will end up that way," the detective began in a softer tone now. Mine was still full of pent up anger and hurt.

"Yeah, but you're not saying that it won't end up that way either!"

"It won't."

"It won't? You're standing there, telling me, detective, that Joe Darley will spend the rest of his life in jail if I testify against him? That he doesn't have the influence to buy himself less time? Take a look at that badge you carry around all day and tell me that this is true."

My eyes were red, I knew. Tears spilled down my cheeks openly and I didn't try to hide them. That night, he had first looked at me with hesitancy, but when I had pleaded to him with fear and desperation in my eyes he had seemed to grow from feeling reluctant to confident. It was impossible for me to let Darley walk away from this feeling superior. I couldn't even consider it.

"What are you planning, Mona?"

I hadn't expected a retort like that. I assumed that maybe she had been a little suspicious of me wanting to know about Darley and his gang, but not enough to have to question me about it.

"Nothing," my voiced dropped back down, sounding defensive in my moment of being caught red-handed.

"Mona, I want you to look me straight in the eye and say that."

I didn't turn to her. If I did, she would know right away that I was hiding something from her. I continued to stare through the window. She waited for me, but when she finally realized that I was just as stubborn as she was, she took a step closer.

"Don't try to convince yourself on what you think is right or wrong. I know living through what you are right now is very difficult, but it's not worth getting hurt over again for. There is law for a reason. It's here to protect and serve and by putting Joe Darley away you will be aiding everything that this country stands for. Don't turn your back on it for something you think you are tough enough to handle. You will realize soon enough that you're still at the edge of his knife if you do."

"I'm sorry, detective. I'm not feeling well right now, so I'm going to leave and hope that you will let me make my own decisions on what I believe to be right or wrong. I don't need your insistence on the matter. You asked for my help in finding Joe Darley, and I did, but I'm afraid that that's as far as I can go. If you can find anyone else that witnessed…"

"You are our only witness and you know that!"

"Well then… I guess you know who wins the case."

I quickly turned around and exited the dark room. I felt bad leaving Detective Wallis on such bad terms, but I prayed that if indeed I needed her help in any way she would still be there for me. As of right now, though, I had more important matters than if I had hurt my only succor in my situation. I wanted to find out more about the Darley's and their gang, but first I needed to heal and become strong again. I also didn't want to go into that side out town, hunting for the biggest gang in Columbia without some experience in self-defense first. I just hoped my motivation was enough to help curb my eagerness until I was ready.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5- The Funeral by Band of Horses**

Delia Aimee Green: July 16th, 1996- May 8th, 2013.

I stood in front of her grave, clutching a bouquet of lilies and bluebells. Frigid air ripped around me, lifting my hair up in frenzied tresses and gray clouds passed overhead as if in a hurry to scuttle over the deserted graveyard to a more preferable landscape. One that was less cryptic and forsaken.

Nine months had passed and I was close to being ready to go after the Darley gang. I had gained a lot of useful information over the course of the past year and now all I had left to do was finish my training. I had joined and participated in several gyms, kick-boxing and self-defense classes. I had even been going to a shooting range, learning how to aim, shoot and reload. My mother had not approved of it in the least bit, thinking that by going to these lessons I was condoning violence. Only in myself did I find violence to be tolerable.

From what I had learned, aggressiveness and power was the main stimulate in this gang of Darley's. They thrived on it and used it in any situation that they saw fit which was basically every encounter they had with someone. Their influence was big on the whole of Columbia, affiliating their power and greed into politics and the law. I knew it was the right thing to trust my gut instinct when I had decided to let Joe Darley go free. Sending him to prison only would have been a short intermission in his usual street play. I trusted that Detective Wallis had been genuine when she wanted to put him in prison, but both she and I knew that he wouldn't have stayed there for long. Maybe she figured she'd have him off of the streets if only for a little while.

I hadn't figured out how to find them yet, though. I guess they could be anywhere in the city, but where? The only choice that I had was to go back to the gas station and start my search from there. I could ask around, get some names and addresses. I wanted to be as discreet as possible when it came to gathering more knowledge in the slums of the city. I couldn't make myself known or obvious until the time was just right, otherwise I might be cornered without any defenses. Being a young girl from the north side of town, I was bound to be noticed fairly easily.

I had brainstormed ideas in which I could hide myself yet still get around sufficiently. I had come up with several: disguise myself as one of the homeless, pretend I was the new girl in town, or better known as, the runaway, claim to be a prostitute, say I was the rich bitch from up the city that used drugs as a means to "feel alive." I also considered getting a job at one of the bars or strip joints down there… I repeatedly berated myself mentally for even thinking I would do something like that. I was already planning my own suicide, why make it harder on myself?

I finally realized that there wasn't going to be any easy way around this. I was just going to have to hope and pray that whoever I came across was too preoccupied with other things to speculate why a young girl was asking around for Darley and his gang.

"I miss you, Di," I said to her tombstone, stepping forward to lay her lilies and bluebells at the base of it. "Your death won't have been in vain. I'm making sure of it. I love you."

I ran my fingers over her name and said a prayer for her before I stepped back and headed back to my car. I didn't want to go home, but it was the only place that I knew. I had shut myself off completely after the events of last year. It still felt as if it had just happened a week ago. My parents had pleaded with me to go ahead with my plans for college, but I had said no to them so many times that all they had to do was glance in my direction before I gave them my automatic answer:

"You live your life, I live mine and all's right in the world. No need to go around expressing your opinions to others when it's not asked for."

For the first month that had shut them up, but our short altercations soon became much more heated when neither my parents nor I would back away from our stubborn view on the matter. They wanted me to get on with my life and continue as if nothing at all had ever happened. One night, I had ardently told them that if they didn't leave the matter be, I was going to make sure that I never had to chance to get to go to college ever. That night, I had been stupid and angry, taking a kitchen knife and threatening to hurt myself. After that episode, they hadn't said a word since. I felt horribly guilty about it, making my parents worry so much about me. I was selfish, but at least they were off my back about it.

When I got home, snow had just started to fall. I dropped my coat and scarf in the foyer, taking off my mudded boots and setting them beside the doorway.

"Surprise!" I walked into the kitchen to be greeted by my parents, a few family members and a couple of old friends from high school. I stood in the threshold, confused. What the hell was this? When I just stood there, not saying anything and looking as if I could get back into my car and parking it in the kitchen rather than in the driveway, my mother decided to act.

"My baby is nineteen today," she made her way over to me, taking me into her warm arms and hugging me tightly. She put her mouth next to my ear, whispering, "Be good. Everyone worked very hard to keep this as a surprise for you. Don't make this a bad day. For me."

She turned me around and guided me towards the dining room table, sitting me at the head where a giant cake with lighted candles sat. Before my butt could even make contact with the hard, polished wood of the chair, they had already started singing "Happy Birthday" to me. I sat there, not acknowledging anyone or anything. I couldn't let myself in fear that I might start having a screaming fit and start throwing handfuls of birthday cake at everyone. I hadn't even remembered that it was my birthday. I hardly noticed anything anymore. Since the night I decided to get back at Darley and his gang, they had become my one and only priority; my obsession.

"Blow out your candles, Mona," I heard a deep, stern voice say next to my ear. I leaned over and blew them all out with one breath. Applause followed.

"Who wants a piece of cake?" My mother asked.

"If you'll excuse me," I mumbled and got out of my chair, making my way towards the stairs.

"Not so fast, young lady. We have guests and presents here for you."

"Mom, have you ever heard the song, "It's My Party and I'll Cry If I Want To?"'

No one said anything and I started to walk away again before someone roughly grabbed my arm and dragged me into the adjacent room. The door slammed heavily behind us.

"Get the hell off of me!" I yanked my arm back and turned to see my father standing there, his face red.

"You are not going to behave like this with all of these guests here! Everyone has taken time out of their day to be here to spend time with you on your birthday and you are not going to walk out of there like some punk with an attitude! Have some damn respect! And I don't want you speaking to your mother like that ever again! I don't care if you're right and she's wrong, I won't tolerate it! If you want to argue with someone, then by all means I'm willing, but not her. She's done nothing but worry herself sick about you since-"

"Since what!? Since I got beat fucking senseless and saw Delia die!? Since I was left for dead myself!? How the fuck do you expect me to act after something like that!? All peaches and cream!?"

"I expect you to act like the damn adult that you are! You aren't the only one suffering after what happened, Mona! We all are! What is it going to take for you to see that?"

"A whole lot more than a fucking birthday cake and a tunelessly sung song!"

His open hand left the side of my face burning. I clutched it, my blue eyes open wide as he stared back at me horrified.

"Mona," he began.

"Fuck you!" I pushed my hands against his chest and hurtled myself towards the stairs. I tripped and stumbled my way up them, tears temporarily blinding me as I made my getaway.

What was I doing? Why was I acting this way? They had done nothing yet I acted like a total bitch. More than a bitch, I had been completely malicious. I was losing myself and I couldn't pull back. I had drifted from the light and fell on the edge of darkness; the shadows were beginning to swallow me whole. I had to act soon. I couldn't let this go on any longer; it was getting out of control. The longer I waited the more I hurt my family and friends.

Just a few more months, I told myself. Then it would all be over. Maybe then, I could finally find some solace. I just wanted my family to be happy again, with or without me. I had put them through enough, and it was damn near time that I had all of this resolved.

* * *

"You're a fuckin' cheater, Billy!" Heco shouted and slammed his fist down on the table.

Nine men sat at a table playing poker in a rundown bar in the south side of Columbia. The smell of alcohol and tobacco wafted heavily in the air. Thick clouds of smoke drifted languidly around the men and an old jukebox played a dark, brooding song.

"You ain't cheating with four of a kind, Heco. Don't pussy out on me. I'm just about gettin' started with takin' all of your money," Billy retorted with a smile, grabbing the bills on the table and pulling them toward him.

There were chuckles heard around the table. A couple of the men downed a few shots before placing in their bets.

"It ain't no big thing, Heco boy. You know he was gonna take it off ya one way or another, anyway," a dark man slapped a hand on Heco's shoulder and laughed. He grabbed his beer and took a deep gulp.

"It ain't no big thing to you, Bodie, because you stay so stuck up Billy's ass, you know you gonna get some for yourself in the end," another man decided to join in on the banter.

"Hey, fuck you, Baggy. I know how to show some respect and do my job. What do you do other than get high and fuck whores all day? And you both wonder why you ain't got no money."

Both Baggy and Heco rose from their chairs, causing Bodie and Billy to rise as well.

"What ya gonna do, hit me? Go for it, tough guy!" Bodie got into Baggy's face, staring him straight in the eyes.

"Hey, why don't you fuckin' dipshits get a damn grip on yourselves and sit the fuck back down," Billy's deep voice resonated throughout the room. The three men were hesitant to move, blind hostility seeming to seep through their pores.

"Has everyone gone fuckin' deaf and stupid or something? Sit the fuck down!" Billy commanded, and almost instantly all three men were back in there chairs.

"Shit!" he exasperated before slowly taking a seat himself, "Has everyone placed their bets?"

Billy Darley looked around the table at his men. A few nodded and others put their money in the center of the table. No one made eye contact with him. After a couple of more beers and cigarettes, the table seemed to be getting back to the relaxed, playful mood before the short dispute interrupted it. Seeing that his men had calmed down a little he decided to speak up.

"Listen, I don't need you pricks ready to jump at each other's throats every time one you has a disagreement. If you gotta fuckin' problem with one another than either get the fuck over it or deal with it. I'm not gonna always be there to pick you assholes up when you fall face first in the mud, so learn some damn respect for one another. We're just as good as fuckin' brothers here."

"Hell yeah! We as good as fucking blood," Bodie piped up. Billy looked to him with cold eyes, but then smiled slowly at his best friend.

"Sorry, man. You know how my tempter gets," Heco said without raising his eyes from his cards. He was still embarrassed after what happened earlier.

"Me too, bro," Baggy apologized.

"Well," Billy said, sitting back with a smug smile gracing his lips. He threw down his cards to show a Royal Flush. "Ain't no big thing then."

The table erupted with fierce laughter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Part 6- The Prodigal Sun by The Black Angels**

The bus sluggishly made its way downtown, puffing and shuffling forward jerkily. It was late evening on a chilly March night. It had been six weeks since my birthday incident and not a word was hardly exchange between me and my parents anymore. I found it difficult being so detached from them, but oddly relieving since I didn't have to worry about them catching on to what I was doing anymore. They used to be so protective over me after what happened, hardly letting me leave the house to go to the mailbox, though I would leave against their will, but now I think they have given up on me; that or themselves. I hoped it was the former. After all, I was the one who had given up on them.

I pushed that pain deep inside of me, forgetting it for now. I was focused and I wasn't going to let anything stand in my way. Not this far ahead. Forgiveness was a virtue in my household, so I knew that their hearts would still be open to me once all was said and done. It felt wrong to rely on them for that, because I didn't deserve it, but it was all I had to live on; as well as my burning urge to get to Darley and his gang.

The bus suddenly lurched to a stop and I looked out the window to see the small gas station boarded up and barren across the street. I hastily got out of my seat and off of the bus. When it finally pulled away, leaving a choking cloud of exhaust in its wake, I stared across the road to where my mind had been kept hostage for nearly a year. I had figured that seeing it would have sent me into a fit of hysterics, bringing forth vivid memories of that night, but I felt nothing.

Looking left then right, I crossed the road from the bus stop and into the gas station parking lot. The pavement was cracked and worn, weeds growing from the blacktop. All pumps were covered in plastic and the windows as well as the door were boarded up. I walked to stand in front of it cautiously, feeling as if time could in fact be reversed and I would be plunged back into the violence of that night. When nothing happened and I knew for certain that I was losing my mind-as if I already didn't know before- I made my way to the boarded up windows, looking through a large makeshift hole in the wood. A window that was supposed to be protected by the board had been busted out. I assumed a thief had been the one to do such a thing, even though the store stood dark and empty.

I put my face near to the hole careful not to get too close because my imagination was starting to get the best of me. I could feel Dracula looming just beyond the barrier of the shift, boring his red eyes into mine and willing me to somehow make my way inside to the bare hollowness of store so he could satisfy his blood lust. I didn't want to give him the chance to grab me, pulling me inside to the waiting blackness beyond.

All though lacking in intensity, some light from surrounding lampposts managed to squeeze its way through other cracks and holes in the wood panels. I shifted my eyes to the spots that the light had been kind enough to grace and found myself gazing at the floor in front of the cashier counter. Dried blood caked the once green tiling, leaving a vast, rusty-brown film spattered and smeared around the small counter. Ripping my head away from the hole, I started to believe that maybe Dracula was in fact using the abandoned building as his lair; luring anything with a heartbeat near so he could rip them viciously open and splash around in their blood on the sticky green floor.

Deciding that I had reminisced enough for the day, I turned around and walked back to the edge of the sidewalk. Steadying myself, I looked around the street to figure out which way I should proceed. An invisible tugging on my left had me turning in that direction. I kept my head down, my jacket wrapped around me tightly; eyes only leaving my feet to glance around warily every once and a while. There weren't too many people around tonight. There were a few homeless here and there, but no other pedestrians; so much for being inconspicuous. I stuck out like a sore thumb.

I passed a few of blocks, seeing nothing but the same rundown terrain and buildings. I was beginning to feel like maybe this trip had been a waste of time. I stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the signal to start walking again when I noticed a mile or so up the road to my right a fluorescent sign. Curiosity instantly gripped me and I jogged back across the street again, continuing straight down this new street towards the building. It was on the other side of the road, but I didn't necessarily plan on going in, so I didn't cross.

As I approached, I saw that it was in fact a bar called the Four Roses, and sitting just outside the entrance were two mustangs; one black and the other red, both sporting tribal graphics. My heart froze mid-beat and I stared intensely at the two cars. I didn't know what to do now that I had found them and an unpleasant sensation ran through me. Fear. I felt clueless. So many months spent training and getting strong again and I felt just like I did that night they had attacked me and Delia; so small and defenseless.

The reality of the situation sent a violent trimmer through me, hitching my senses up to first gear. I was ruefully aware of everything that was happening around me, what had been happening the last ten months of my life. I sank to the edge of the sidewalk, putting my head between my knees and tried to control my breathing and racing heart.

What was I thinking? Why was I here? I couldn't possibly expect myself to be able to kill someone, let alone a whole gang. Had I gone bat-shit crazy? Yes, I concluded. I had indeed lost all sanity. I needed to get home and immediately. I only had a pocket knife on me and although it was 8 inches in length and I had practiced handling it, I still felt inadequate. I pulled my hood closer around my face, protecting it from the biting wind. That's when the door of the bar burst open and I saw him.

He was huge, tall and well built; I could see as much even though he wore a brown leather trench coat and black clothing. He was bald with a mustache and goatee and he had tattoos traveling up his neck that were similar in design to those on the mustangs. He stood there, hulking under the blinking sign of the Four Roses, the light illuminating him perfectly as if he had demanded it to bend and shape itself around him. He was absolutely terrifying. Cupping a hand around his mouth, he lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. As he exhaled, several other men came out the door to join him. There were nine in total that I could see and I recognized Joe Darley as one among them.

A sharp pang of nervousness tore through my abdomen as I watched. Joe walked up to the man in the trench coat and slapped him on the back. Comparing them side by side, Joe looked like a runt as skinny as he was. He was tall too, but not as tall as the man beside him. The man grabbed Joe by the neck, smiling at him and lightly shaking him back and forth, saying something I couldn't hear. They exchanged a few words before a black man who had been talking to the others suddenly broke away and started towards them, calling a name.

"Billy!"

The man in the trench coat looked up. So, this was the infamous Billy Darley. I was shocked to feel surprise on learning that this was him. He and Joe looked nothing alike, but then again I guess it would have been weird to picture a gang lord any other way than what Billy Darley looked like. I was curious about their father now and if he had the same commanding air to him as Billy did; if he was just as big or bigger. I couldn't begin to imagine. Bones Darley. He sure sounded like a giant and a mean one at that.

All the men gathered around Billy, seeming to discuss something before they broke out in rambunctious laughter and hollering. Breaking up, they all made their way to the mustangs, Billy, Joe and a few others heading for the black one while the rest went to the other. It wasn't until Billy glanced in my direction did I even realize that I was sitting on the side of a deserted road, staring intently at the gang of all gangs.

"Shit!" I whispered to myself before quickly looking away and burying my face in my hood. Maybe he hadn't noticed me, just figuring I was another homeless person lounging out on the street as any other night. I waited a couple of seconds before my curiosity got the best of me and shifted my hood to where I could look back across the street again.

He was still standing there, staring at me with an amused look on his face and puffing on his cigarette. The other guys were now hanging around the cars, yelling back and forth at each other humorously, waiting to leave. I locked eyes with Billy Darley for what seemed like several minutes, but could only have been several seconds until he threw his cigarette down on the pavement, smashing it under his foot. He started for the car again, but held my gaze for a second longer before finally turning away.

Slamming his open hand on the hood of the car a few times, I heard him shout, "Let's go!"

All the men piled inside the cars, both engines roaring to life. Windows rolled down, they screamed out the windows as they reversed out into the street. I looked to the black mustang as it stopped to shift to drive in the street. Billy sat behind the driving wheel, arm hanging out the window and he flashed me one last curious glance before a small smirk broke his hard features and sped off down the road, the red mustang close behind.

I quickly let out the air in my lungs I had subconsciously been holding during my staring competition with Billy. My burning lungs greedily found relief with the cold air.

I still felt fear and the consciousness of my slipping sanity, but seeing both Darley's and their gang, I felt another uprising of the determination I had for taking them all out. For almost a year they had all been free to do whatever they pleased. They lived their lives how they wanted, enjoying the pain and discomfort of others; enjoying mine and Delia's.

I stood up still feeling weak, but no longer feeling helpless. Raw anger and hate boiled through me and I knew that if I still had been in my right mind that that would have been enough to frighten me into submission alone. I knew I was strong enough to handle this now. They looked tough, but I could tell they were all cowards on the inside. I was anticipating on showing them what it was like to be the victim this time, but more than anything I was fervently looking forward to cutting that smirk off of Billy Darley's face.


	7. Chapter 7

**Part 7- Mission District by The Black Angels**

The interior of Four Roses was just how I pictured it: dark, smoky and full of drunks. Despite it only being two o'clock in the afternoon it was quite full. Some heads drifted upwards to see who had entered, others were either too preoccupied smoking or drinking the last of their beers to glance up right away. Once everyone became aware of my presence, though, they stayed aware. This could serve as somewhat of a problem and it left me on edge. I chose to ignore all stares, like I had any other choice, and continued forward towards the bar. A man with dark hair stood behind it, wiping down the counter.

"What can I do for ya, micariño? You look a little too young to be in here," he had a thick Spanish accent and he smiled at me lasciviously.

I looked around nervously. There were three parts to the bar: the front room, the bar in the middle, and a back room with a few tables, a pool table and jukebox. Hardly anyone was sitting in the back. A deep song with heavy guitar riffs broke through the thick clouds of smoke that drifted almost stagnantly through the air. I turned my head back to the bartender.

"Are you the owner?"

"The name's Sammy and whatever you need,cariño, I'm your man," his smiled widened to show a row of white teeth. I could see where this was going. Crap.

"Well, Sammy, I just wanted to ask a few questions about some of your customers I saw in here last night; a group of guys. One of them goes by the name of Joe Darley," I didn't want to lay down Billy's name just yet. He wasn't necessarily the one I was after right now, and I didn't want anyone to get uptight while I was still figuring things out.

"That's a hard crowd. Why do you wanna know about them?"

"We have some… unfinished business that needs to be resolved," I hoped I was vague enough so he could interpret that anyway he wanted. The less questions asked by him, the better. I was the one who needed information, anyway.

"Unfinished business," he strained each syllable purposefully, looking into my eyes intently. "What's your name?"

"It's not significant. They know who I am. It's just been a while since we last saw each other."

 _Real smooth, Mona._ I could feel myself panicking. Sammy gave me a curious look, squinting his eyes and looking me over slowly. He seemed a little hesitant to continue talking with me, but finally I saw a sense of resolve in his face and he smiled again.

"For a sweetie like you, I'll give you any information you want, but… If you wanna know all about them there will be a small price to pay first."

"Name your price, but it comes afterwards," I narrowed my eyes. I did not like where this was going one bit. No problem. I'd make him tell me what he knows first and handle the situation from there.

"I said a small price, not a big one," he leaned back and winked before reaching underneath the bar, getting a small shot glass out and filling it with a rich golden liquid. He slid it to me and leaned on his elbows in front of me, "Tequila."

I looked at him for a second, debating on taking it or not before I picked up the small glass and downing it in one gulp.

"That's my girl," he took the shot glass and filled it again, still smiling and leaning against the counter. "You need to loosen up. A girl as pretty as you are doesn't need to be so uptight."

After I took the second one, I slammed the glass down on the bar and held my hand over it, not wanting anymore. Getting plastered in this place would not be a good idea.

"What do you know?" I questioned.

"What I know is… is the people you are asking about ain't such good people. I'm having a hard time trying to figure out why someone like you is so interested in them. I don't remember seeing you in here last night…."

"Every girl has her reasons," I argued. He laughed and slammed his hand against the bar counter.

"That's rich," his laughter ended, but a stupid smile stayed. "Okay, what I know is, is that Darley and his gang take up space in the old mental hospital a few miles east of here. That's where they run their business, if ya know what I mean. Bones owns the body shop not too far from here either. Darley and his gang work for him. They live just a block down the road in a shitty apartment complex if you wanna pay a personal visit. It'll be hard not to miss."

"Their business?"

"What they sell and they ain't the type of boys to be messed with unless they're ready for sellin'. For someone like you, though… they might make an exception."

I nodded my head, so they were drug dealers and murderers, working for Billy and Joe's father nonetheless. Two classy acts rolled into one. It didn't leave me surprised.

"Thanks for the information, Sammy… and the shots," I stepped back from the bar and started to cautiously move towards the door when his hand caught my wrist. I snapped my head back towards him, ready to put up a fight if he tried to stop me from leaving.

"You're welcome. Watch yourself, cariño. It'd be a shame if something happened to you," he gave me a serious look, before releasing my wrist and grabbed my shot glass, putting it away. I gave him a slight nod and turned around, walking out of the dense bar into the fresh air of the ceasing afternoon.

I had driven here this time, suspecting that I might run into one of the Darley's or their men. I wanted a fast getaway just in case, but I hadn't seen any of them. And after two shots of tequila my reflexes were a tad bit off, but so far I had been fairly lucky. I was itching to go give them a visit right now, but the timing felt off. I wanted to watch them some more. Learn their behavior and mannerisms; follow the same schedule they did. As well as be completely sober.

I got into my car, turning over the ignition and headed the way Sammy told me their apartment complex was, and he was right. It definitely was hard not to miss. The building slumped as if it was about to crumble in on itself at any moment and graffiti decorated its exterior. Several people hung outside of it, smoking or talking to one another. I pulled to the curb across the street, shutting off the engine when I saw him. Joe Darley himself, leaning into a girl who sat on top of his brother's black mustang. She put her head back, dark hair falling over her shoulder as she laughed at whatever he had said. He started kissing her neck.

Billy Darley suddenly showed up beside them, slapping the back of Joe's head. He looked pissed off that he had his girl on top of his car, yelling at him and pointing out the way for her to get down. They exchanged a few more heated words before Billy flicked the cigarette he was smoking to the ground and headed for the driver door. Joe and his girlfriend started towards the complex as Billy climbed in and started the car. He peeled out recklessly and before I could start my car back up again, he was already pulling out of the parking lot. His eyes caught mine.

He quickly pulled parallel to my car, facing the opposite direction and slammed on his breaks so his window was right beside mine. He motioned for me to roll it down. My heart hammered painfully in my chest and I reached out a shaky hand, pressing down on the button that powered the window. It rolled down smoothly.

His blue eyes were like ice as he looked me over, seeing me up close for the first time since that night long ago. He didn't seem to recognize me, but his glare stayed hard.

"Can I help you with somethin'?" His voice was deep and husky. His right arm hung out of his window and I didn't like the fact that we were so close. He could have easily reached over and touched me.

"I'm fine, thank you," I didn't know what to say. I was at a complete loss for words. I never thought I'd be face to face with any of them this soon, let alone having a conversation.

"You've been following me, yeah? I saw you last night, sitting outside' a Four Roses."

"That wasn't me. I've never been through here before. I just got lost trying to find the highway…." I mumbled.

"You got lost trying to find the highway? What, did you drop through a hole in the middle of suburbia and land down here?"

"You're holding up traffic," I said and turned my gaze to look behind him where a car started to blare its horn. He looked in his review mirror then turned back to me before motioning for the person to go around him. When they didn't move and continued to lay on their horn, his face turned red and he flipped them off. He finally spoke again.

"You want the highway, it's back the way you came, but I suspect you already knew that."

His engine roared ferociously as he hit the gas, his blistering eyes not tearing away from mine until the car lurched gracefully forward. He was becoming suspicious, and that was not good. It still felt a little early. I wanted at least another week before I acted, but I might have to move sooner if he saw me again.

 _Brace yourself_ , I thought.


	8. Chapter 8

**Part 8- Young Dead Men by The Black Angels**

Billy sat at a worn table with his men in the back of Four Roses, having a few beers and relaxing from the hard day he had. He had come up short again with Bones' money and neither men were happy about it. Only making slightly over two grand, Billy and his boys had felt the effects of such a deficiency when Bones had threatened to kill all of them, practically chasing them out of the shop with his shotgun cocked and ready to fire in their direction.

"You ain't comin' on my turf, boy, with only two fuckin' grand! You half-wits wanna work for me, you better do your fuckin' job! Otherwise, I know you're stealing my shit, and I'm gonna put a fuckin' bullet through each of your skulls! Got it!?"

Upon leaving, Billy had been vehemently furious. He didn't know why he took directions from Bones anymore. Billy hardly went to him other than to give him the night's profits. He was fully capable of holding his own business as well as taking over the body shop if he chose to do so. It would be almost too easy for him to be the one to put a bullet through Bones' fat head, but he held back. After all, he was still his father, even if Bones was always reluctant to admit that.

"She was pretty sweet, you say? Hey, Billy, listen to this."

Billy looked down the table to see his friend Baggy grinning widely, leaning on his elbows across the table to look at him. A short, stocky man who was a regular at Four Roses stood behind him with the same smile. Everyone turned their heads to look at them both curiously.

"Yo, listen. Danny here said some chick was in here asking about us earlier today. He said she was real sweet and he wanted to know if she was gonna coming back."

"How the fuck should I know? I don't even know who the hell you're talking about," Billy looked to the short man and took a puff from his cigarette. It dangled from his lips while he continued talking, "What was her name?"

"I donno, man. She only talked to Sammy, but she sure was a nice little thing," Danny replied.

Billy immediately became curious. He wondered if it could have been the same girl he had seen last night and earlier that day. She definitely was a good-looking girl; too good-looking to be in this part of town. She also drove a nice car. He perceived that there was something different about her when he first saw her across the street from the bar last night, trying to blend in. He knew she was up to something the second time he saw her. All he need was another fucking undercover cop on his ass again. If she got too close, he was gonna have to do something about it; though killing her would be a shame.

He pinched his cigarette between his thumb and index finger, licking his lips quickly before continuing, "What she look like?"

"Well, she was small and had long, curly brown hair with a tight body. I mean _tight_ ," Danny emphasized. "And not stripper tight, but like she was works out a lot, but not too over done like those crazy bodybuilder chicks are. Shit like that is just disgusting, but she was smoking. I'd love to-"

"Okay, Danny. I got it," Billy interrupted him; not wanting to know what he had fantasized about this girl. It was definitely the one who had been following him. The men around the table started chuckling.

"Well, shit, Billy. I'd wanna know when she was coming back, too, from the sound of her," Joe laughed along.

"Yo, Sammy!" Billy called over to the bartender, "I got a couple of questions for ya."

Sammy finished pouring a beer for a customer and then stalked over while wiping his hands on his stained jeans.

"What up, esé?"

"Tell us a little bit more about this girl who was in here earlier today."

Sammy instantly tensed up and looked around the table nervously before shooting a glare at Danny, "What you wanna know?"

"I wanna know what she was doing in here asking you questions about us, if you don't mind tellin'."

"She was just curious, bro. Said she knows you from a while ago. Wanted to get back in touch."

"She knows us? How? Did she say?"

"No, man. She was being really vague, talking about "unfinished business" and "having her reasons." She wouldn't tell me her name either."

Billy turned his head back to the table, looking at all his men who all looked just about confused as he was. He was almost positive she had to be the police. Why else would a girl like her be in here asking about them?

"She look like a cop to you?" Billy asked Sammy.

"I don't know, man. She looked a little too young for that. She was just curious, I don't know why," Sammy never thought of her being a cop. She had looked way too young and innocent for that, but then what other excuse would there for her being in here. He had never seen her before and definitely not with Billy or any of his gang for that matter.

"Sammy, did you tell her where we keep the business?"

Sammy's eyes shot down to his feet, to the table, to the other customers crowded around in the bar. Anywhere except at Billy Darley and his boys. His anxiety spiked. He had been good friends with them since he started working at the bar five years ago, but he never completely trusted them. No one could wholly trust people like Darley and his gang, and if they found out he told a cop where they made their drugs, he was sure their five year friendship wouldn't be enough to save him. All men stared intently at him as they digested what this might mean.

"Sammy, I asked you a question."

"What, man? No," Sammy lied, getting defensive with his distress. He really didn't want any trouble. "I didn't tell her anything man. She was only here for two minutes before she left."

Billy nodded his head, snuffing out his cigarette and then stood up from the table beside Sammy. He smiled down at him and Sammy flashed a nervous smile back, looking around the table again. Swiftly, Billy had Sammy's left wrist tight in his hand, bring it around his back and pulling it upwards. He cried out as Billy slammed him down on the table, beer sloshing over the surface from tipped glasses. He yanked Sammy's arm up higher, close to the point where the bone could easily snap.

"Now, I'm gonna ask you one more time, Sammy. And I'll know you're telling me the truth 'cause we've been good friends for a while. Did you tell her where we keep the business?" Billy was close to his ear.

Sammy let out a strangled grunt and took in a few quick breaths before responding, "Yes, but she wasn't any fuckin' cop, man! I swear!"

"How can you be so sure of that? You see a nice looking girl and you're so quick to rat out your friends? I'm disappointed, Sammy. I thought you were smarter than that. You see, if I have a fuckin' cop chasing me around, my boys and I aren't gonna be able to sell and that results in us losin' money. You got the funds to supplement our loses?"

"No, man, I'm sorry! Just let me go! I swear I didn't know! I'm sorry!" Sammy pleaded with him.

Billy pulled Sammy's arm tighter for a couple of more seconds before letting him go. He fell to the floor, wet from the spilt beer and clutching his arm. Billy sniffed and wiped a hand under his nose.

"You're gonna be the first person I come to if cops show up at my door, _esé_. Understand what you're dealing with before you give free information out like it's a fuckin' bedtime story," he threatened before slamming his foot into the bartender's side.

"Billy."

He jerked his head up to the sound of Heco saying his name, anger still flaring inside of him, "What?"

"I know who she is," he said in a low voice. His facial expression was one of anger. Billy gave him a look that told him to keep talking. "I saw her sitting outside last night. I didn't recognize her at first… Remember the gas station about a year ago?"

Realization suddenly dawned on everyone's face as they compared Danny's description of the girl seen in the bar to the one they remembered from a year ago. They all looked around at each other, not sure about what this meant.

"What do you think she wants?" Billy asked Heco.

"I don't know, but whatever it is, let me deal with it. Like the bitch said, we have some "unfinished business."'

Billy remembered how she had latched onto Heco that night, trying to get him off of her friend. She had been easy to hinder back then, so he wondered what she could possibly want with them now. She saw what they were capable of and, as attractive as she was, she had to be pretty dumb to come looking for more trouble.

Billy stepped back from Sammy, looking down at him with disgust and indignation in his light blue eyes. He still lay on the floor, but he clutched at his side now, groaning.

"Yeah, I remember her. Bitch kicked me in my jaw. She couldn't even testify against me in court," Joe spoke up. "I think I remember her name. Rachel, Raymond, Rambo, Nancy… Dammit, what was it? Oh yeah, Ramona! That was it."

"You got a last name rambling around in there?" Billy questioned Joe.

"Where the hell did you get Ramona from all of that? Nancy?" Bodie asked with amusement and curiosity mixed on his dark face. Joe gave them both a cold look before responding to both unanswered questions.

"Well, I was trying to remember and they all _sorta_ sound the same to me," he turned to Billy then, "And it's Stone, if I remember correctly."

Bodie let out a high pitched laugh before gulping half of his beer that he managed to save from Billy's little scrap with Sammy.

"Well, that's our girl. I want you guys tryin' to find as much information as you can on her. See what she wants," Billy placed both hands at the end of the table and it groaned under his weight. "Let's try to figure out what Miss Drew is plannin', huh?"

Bodie let out another high pitched laugh before smacking Joe on the back in good humor, downing the rest of his drink.


	9. Chapter 9

**Part 9- In the Waiting Line by Zero 7**

"Mona?" I heard a soft voice speak from the other end of the phone.

"Who's this?" I asked, agitated. I had been asleep when the phone started ringing, waking me up.

"It's Abby. Listen, sorry if I woke you. I'll call back later," she quickly apologized.

"Oh, hey, Abby. It's okay. I didn't recognize your voice at first," I said, sitting up and furrowing my eyebrows.

I looked over at my alarm clock situated on my nightstand. It read eleven thirty-eight. Why was Abby calling me? I hadn't seen her since the disaster that was my birthday party two months ago. I hadn't even spoken to her then, so I didn't know why she would want to speak to me now.

"Yeah… I just wanted to see how you were doing. It's been a while," she sounded extremely nervous. I felt bad, so I let out a soft sigh, putting a smile on my face because, apparently, people can always hear a smile in your voice.

"I've been doing okay, Abby. Just being going to some classes here and there. Nothing too over the top."

 _Ha_ , I laughed to myself, _if only she knew what I've really been up to or planning, rather._

"Oh, so you are going to college? I thought you decided not to go after… Uh," she stopped short, "I just thought you decided not to go."

The smile fell from my face and I shut my eyes, holding my breath to keep from screaming. I shouldn't get mad at her for bringing that up, although it was stupid of her; it wasn't her fault.

"No, not college courses, self-defense classes, stuff like that."

"Oh," she paused. The silence grew heavy between us. I wasn't sure if she had really called to see how I was doing or not. After the way I had acted the last week of school, speaking to no one or becoming senselessly angry whenever someone _did_ speak to me, I would assume she would have wanted to stay clear of me; even after almost a year.

"Did you need something?"

"No," I heard a heavy sigh, "I've just worried about you, Mona. A lot. You were one of my good friends in high school, you know that. And after… We never spoke much after that. I always thought we had a pretty close relationship compared to everyone else we knew, besides… Delia."

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. The guilt and remorse I felt for my parents after the way I had been treating them since Delia's death was a very heavy burden and knowing that I had hurt Abby too added to the weight I felt. I had always liked her. She had been my closest friend next to Delia, but I had completely pushed her away along with everyone else. I felt so detached from the world then, sitting in my bed; my hair and pajamas a mess. It seemed I had been locked up in this room for decades, having burning grievance and vindication as my only source of company. Talking on the phone with her felt like I was having my first communication with the outside world, it felt… different; almost exhilarating.

"Actually, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to hang out tonight. Go out and do something, maybe?" Abby seemed reluctant, but who could have blamed her.

"Go out?" The concept was so far from me. The only outings I had been on since the attack was to get back in shape and train myself, not one with the intention of having fun and letting loose.

"Yeah, maybe a club or something? Go dancing. It might be fun. When was the last time you went out?"

"Your party," I said slowly. She didn't answer. I could almost feel the heat of her embarrassment through the phone. "That sounds good, Abby. I'd like to go out with you. I think I need it, actually."

I surprised myself with the answer. What was I doing? I didn't need to get involved with Abby again with what I was about to do, but I couldn't stop myself from saying the words. I had been holding myself back for so long. Maybe I could do something fun before I rushed head first into the charging bull that was Darley's gang.

"Oh," Abby's voice was one of pleasant surprise, "great! Well, uhm, should I pick you up around nine?"

"Uh, yeah. That sounds okay."

"Well, good. I'll see you later on tonight, okay?"

"I'll see you then," I told her before hanging up. This was going to be interesting. I just hoped that tonight wouldn't end up too badly. I didn't want anything to happen to Abby because of me. It was my duty to protect those around me now. I would always depend on myself for that.

I looked over to my alarm clock, eleven forty-two; might as well get a start on the day. I sighed. I went down stairs and ate a light breakfast before getting ready, putting on some track pants and a hoody. I pulled on my running shoes and grabbed my iPod before heading out the door.

I jogged around my neighborhood absentmindedly, keeping my eyes ahead of me. Even though it was late morning, the air was still condensed with a heavy fog, the sky gray and weeping. I pulled my hood up to keep from getting completely wet. It was a light drizzle, but I still didn't want to risk the chance of catching a cold.

Once I got home, I went down into the basement where I kept my workout equipment. I proceeded to grab two dumbbells, rotating back and forth between curling them to my shoulders as I did squats. Around one o'clock, I stopped my routine work out and ate a lunch that was a little bit heavier than the breakfast I had eaten. I wanted more, but knew to keep my proportions fairly small. The rest of the day I kept myself busy with little things like cleaning, gardening, and cooking dinner early for my parents. What I usually did went I wasn't too preoccupied with fantasizing about Billy Darley and his gang; about how much I wanted to hurt them.

My thoughts stayed with them as I started to get ready for my night out with Abby. It had been two weeks since the day Billy had pulled up next to me. I had resisted going back down there, knowing if I showed up again too soon he would definitely know I was up to something. I had gotten nervous after going into Four Roses to ask about them. People had paid a lot more attention to me than I thought they would, and I was afraid that someone would say something to them. I wasn't too worried about the man, Sammy, though. He seemed to be genuinely interested in my well-being, which I found odd. Why did he care? As long as he didn't say anything, I was okay. After all, he had been the only one I had spoken to.

I had just finished pulling on my sweater when I heard the doorbell ring. I ran down the stairs to get it just as my mother was pulling the door open.

"Abby," she breathed, shocked, "What are you doing here?"

I walked up behind her to see Abby standing there, her short, dark hair framing her small face.

"We're going out, mom," I said. She jumped and turned to face me when she heard my voice.

"Oh," she looked back and forth between me and Abby.

"Actually, we aren't going anywhere with you looking like that," Abby pointed to my attire.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" I asked, looking down. I wore a simple pair of jeans and a black sweater. I thought I looked okay, but then my eyes drifted over Abby's personal choice in clothing. She wore a dark purple dress that came to her mid-thigh. It billowed out as it reached her waist and hung loosely from her chest.

"Oh," I said, seeing her point. We were obviously going to a nightclub and wearing jeans and a sweater just wouldn't cut it. It actually wouldn't even get me in the waiting line for it.

"Let's get you into something more appropriate, huh?" She grabbed my arm and dragged me back up stairs to my room. I looked back at my mom who stood there with a very confused look on her face. She stared back at me, her hand still on the knob to the front door, before finally a small smile appeared across her features.

"We're gonna have a lot of fun tonight, Mona. I'm gonna make sure of it," Abby said, smirking at me.

"Oh, boy," I replied before my bedroom door closed behind us.


	10. Chapter 10

**Part 10- Restless (feat. Josh Homme) by Unkle**

They had found out where she lived, how old she was, where she had graduated from high school, what her social security number was and how many times she had been pulled over. Who her parents were and what jobs they held, what she did during the day and what she had been doing the past eleven months. It had taken them a week to get reliable information on her since Billy last saw her. After that, they had been following her over the course of the past week, studying her. She seemed like any other normal teenager save for the fact that she was a complete recluse. She didn't even go to college. The guys figured it was their doing for her ending up that way. They had also found out that Heco had indeed ended up killing her friend. That hadn't necessarily been his intention; he had just wanted to shake them up a bit for the excitement it brought him. What's done is done though, they thought. Mona didn't seem to see it that way, focusing on her friend's death more than they found necessary.

"Everyone needs to get hurt sometimes," Heco said while they were having a few beers, "Why she and her friend gotta be the exception to it?"

"I don't know if she thinks of herself as an exception, Heco. More like she wants to figure out why what happened to her and her friend happened," Bodie speculated.

"What does she wanna know? People get hurt, they die. It's life. Get the fuck over it already," he said, annoyed.

"So, what? One of us gets killed and you're over it right after it happens?" Billy asked his friend.

"Hell no. Whoever did it would be fuckin' begging for their momma when they hear from me," he replied. "Ain't nobody gonna pull shit with one of us and think they can get away with it. We'd die for each other."

"And what makes you think she's so different from us? Other than the fact she's led a better life," Billy asked. He sat back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest, cigarette loosely dangling from his lips.

"What, you think she's gonna come after us?" Bodie laughed at the prospect. "You can't be serious."

"Why not?" Billy shrugged. "She's been signing up to several different self-defense classes, shooting ranges, boxing classes, gyms for almost the past year."

"That could also be because after what happened she'd want to know she could protect herself if something ever did happen again," Tommy put his say in.

"That's true, but why go to the extent she has?" Baggy asked. "She didn't even take Joe to court."

All eight men turned to look at Joe who sat beside Billy slumped down in his chair and enjoying a beer himself. He shrugged.

"I think she was scared. Knew we might be after her if she tried to put me away."

"Or knew she could get to you faster if she didn't," Billy added, taking a long drag off of his cigarette.

"Why you keep saying that? It's been almost a year, the bitch ain't gonna come barreling after us, guns a blazin', anytime soon," Bodie shook his head, matching Heco's annoyed tone from earlier.

"And what makes you think you know that for sure? She's been up here twice. Me and Heco have seen her. What other excuse would she have?"

"Morbid curiosity," Spink laughed as he exhaled from the joint he was smoking.

"More than that," Billy retorted sarcastically. "We're not gonna sit here and argue about what's she up to or what her intentions are. We found out where she lives and what's she been doing. I say she's planning something against us, than she's planning something against us. I don't need you assholes sittin' here tellin' me I'm a damn fool for thinking so. You come up with something better, then maybe I'll listen, but right now I want you all to get your heads out of your fucking asses and pay me some damn respect, okay?"

"Don't pull that shit with us, Billy. You know we respect you. Just because we have our own opinions doesn't mean you gotta get pissed about it," Jamie said, getting angry now. Billy flashed him a furious glare.

"Since when are you gonna talk to me like _I'm_ the one who takes orders? You do what _I_ say, you think what _I_ say, you fuckin' breathe what _I_ say!" Billy's cigarette dropped out of his mouth during his little rant and he was leaning over the table towards Jamie. His face and neck were red, veins popping out under his tattoos. Jamie gave him an irate look before bowing his head and lowering his eyes, looking away.

 _Yeah, and you're Bones' bitch, too_ , Jamie thought.

"Hey, what happened to us all respecting each other? I think we need to take some time and chill the fuck out," Bodie said, looking back and forth between Billy and Jamie. "There's no way we're gonna let this little _girl_ strain our friendship. She ain't worth it, and even if she was, I know you guys well enough to know that none of us would ever abandon the other, am I correct?" He looked around the table at all the men he had known for years. Some he even grew up with, Billy and Joe included. They all nodded except Billy and Jamie.

"I think we need to come up with a plan for this girl," Billy said in a voice that was low and husky, still looking at Jamie. "I'm not _positive_ on what she's planning, but it doesn't seem like she's up to any good."

"Tonight," Heco said. "We should let her know we're on to her. Have a little chat."

Everyone looked around at each other, agreeing with their eyes before looking to Billy for confirmation. He looked at all of them before stopping on Jamie.

"Does that sound okay to you?" He asked mockingly. Jamie narrowed his eyes at the table before looking up and nodding, then slowly smiling in apology. Billy smiled tightly back.

* * *

"It's too loud in here!" I screamed to Abby.

We had just walked into the club and before we had even made it into the main lobby, I could feel myself going deaf. I also wasn't too keen on what I was wearing either. Abby had attacked my closet, raiding it before then attacking me with whatever she had found. She had made me change at least seven times before finally becoming satisfied enough to let me walk out the door.

"I know, but it's fun! And we both look hot! We should dance!" She yelled back to me with a bright smile on her face. She looked me over one last time with an approving look. I had on a small jean skirt with a loose-fitting, green sheer top and brown boots that came just below my calves. I felt exposed. She had also attacked my face too, applying several different kinds of makeup that I thought left me less than savory. I pulled my long, curly hair around my shoulders to cover me.

"Oh, come on!" She laughed and dragged me to the dance floor.

After first, I was too timid to dance along with Abby. I hadn't been in a social gathering like this in so long and it felt like everyone was staring at me, thinking, "What are you doing here? Why should you get to be here when your best friend is six feet underground?"

 _This is ridiculous_ , I thought to myself. Slowly, I let myself loosen up and swayed to the music. Soon, I was getting into it just about as much as Abby was. After several songs, she pulled me to the bar and ordered us some drinks. She handed me a small glass.

"This isn't alcoholic, is it?" I asked unsure. She flashed me a mischievous look before nodding.

"It's a salty dog! Vodka and grapefruit juice! Good, right?"

"Delicious," I barely yelled back. I really didn't want to drink, but she had already bought it, or I assumed she had bought it, but she probably had just gotten it for free; she was attractive and looked old enough. The bartender was still leaning towards her, smiling and saying something to her. Either way, I didn't want to hurt her feelings. I decided one drink wouldn't hurt. Besides, I was supposed to be having fun tonight, right?

"Are you having fun?"

"Actually… Yes!" I hadn't realized it, but I was having a lot of fun.

"Javier here said he'd give us as many drinks as we wanted tonight," Abby said, looking to Javier then back to me.

I looked over my shoulder to the young bartender. He was blond and very good-looking; he gave me a lopsided smile.

"I'd ask you to dance, but it seems the only thing I can offer you beautiful ladies are some free drinks."

"Oh, no, we'll pay," I said. He shook his head, leaning towards me now.

"As long as you flash me that pretty smile of yours, it'll be payment enough."

I blushed automatically. He was flirting with me? It seemed I'd have to get used to _that_ game all over again, if I even made it to the beginning of summer; if I made it through Darley and his gang. I looked away before either him or Abby saw the anger flash through me. I gulped down my drink.

"Whoa! Slow down there, Mona! We've got all night to have fun," Abby placed a hand on my shoulder. "Are you all right?"

I nodded my head before asking Javier for another.

"My kinda girl," he smiled, turning to make another drink. Abby's eyebrows pushed together in a worried expression. I gave her a tight smile, trying to show her I was fine.

A couple of drinks later, and a few more flirtatious lines from Javier, I was feeling really good… and slightly drunk. A fast, upbeat song started vibrating through the room when Abby suddenly latched onto my arm and put her mouth close to my ear.

"Those guys over there are totally checking us out!" She squealed.

"Where?"

"Over there! Those two guys!"

I looked in the direction she pointed, and although I saw plenty of guys, I saw none that were currently directly their attention at us, "Where?"

Abby sighed, "Right there? You don't see them?"

I looked again, but still didn't see what she was seeing. I shook my head, a confused expression on my face and shrugging. She rolled her eyes and gave me a sloppy smile.

"Let's go say hi," she started to pull me from the bar.

"I think I'm gonna go dance," I said, taking my arm from her grasp.

"You sure you're okay, Mona? We can go home if you don't wanna be here anymore."

"No, go talk to them, get some numbers. I just don't feel like being sociable right now. I'll be on the dance floor," I assured her before turning to find a spot I was comfortable with. I chose one by a group of girls, figuring if one tried to dance with me I'd have an easier time of shooting them down than I would a guy.

Finding the beat of the song, I closed my eyes and began to dance. It felt good to clear my head, moving without thought. I decided I'd have to do this more often if things turned out my way in the end.

* * *

"Distract the friend," Billy said to Heco and Joe.

At first they had went to her house, but upon seeing her leaving with a girl, an old friend they assumed, their pursuit lead them to a night club in the middle of the city. They were surprised to see that Ramona still went out considering what they had found out about her. This made the guys second-guess Billy once again; thinking that maybe the information they had of her was faulty, but he swiftly put ease to their apprehension with a few choice words. When they arrived at the club, the guys had gained entry into it faster than Ramona and her friend had.

She hadn't noticed them yet, and Billy liked it that way. He'd rather show himself, letting her know he was the one in charge of whatever game she was trying to play. He motioned for the other guys to spread around the club, positioning themselves around the exits to prevent her from leaving, and to also make sure they had a quick getaway in case something happened. Billy started towards the dance floor where Ramona had disappeared.

Pushing his way through, he felt too crowded and like he was going around in circles. He turned, walking back up towards the front of the club when he spotted her a few feet ahead. She had her eyes closed, dancing and her loose curls swayed wildly around her. He circled around, keeping his eyes on her until he stood directly behind her. He closed in until he could feel her lightly brushing against him; his big hands wound around her bare upper arms and pulled her against his chest.

"The fuck!?" She yelled, spinning around. Her blue eyes widened and her mouth fell slightly ajar when she saw him. Her face blanched and he grinned wickedly, still holding one of her arms. He roughly pulled her to him as the song ended.

"Care for a dance?" he whispered in her ear.


	11. Chapter 11

**Part 11- Biscuit by Portishead**

His grip on my arm was tight, so tight that it seemed I could feel his fingerprints molding into my skin, and he held me close enough that his eyelashes nearly grazed mine as he looked down at me. My comfort level had dropped way below zero and was still plummeting.

I pulled back slightly, ignoring his question and searched the crowd frantically for Abby with my eyes. What was he doing here? How had he found out about me? How did he _find_ me? He had to know I was up to something if he was here, right? Maybe Sammy wasn't as sincere as he had seemed. He worked in a rundown bar on the wrong side of town, after all. Why should I be surprised?

 _So stupid!_ I mentally yelled at myself.

The crowd pulsed leisurely around us in the brief absence of sound, forming a tight cocoon where only Billy and I stood still. I couldn't see anything beyond. I thought about fighting him, bringing my knee up into his crotch and the heel of my hand into his nose. I also thought about screaming bloody murder, which was my first instinct, but I had managed to rein it in, barely.

"I wouldn't worry about your friend," he whispered in the still of the crowd. "My boys are taking good care of her."

I tried to jerk my arm from him, but stopped short as his grip tightened and he jerked back. A slow song with heavy bass poured out through numerous speakers that sent tremors throughout the multitude of bodies, passing vibrations from one finger tip to the other.

"That also means you take my offer for a dance," he said, warning bright in his eyes and I knew what he meant. Do as he said or there would be consequences for both Abby and me. I didn't have to see the two guys she had been trying to point out earlier for me to picture what they looked like now. I knew who they were all too well, and my heart rattled clumsily at the thought of her near any them.

"Where is she," I demanded, pulling my hand of the arm he still clutched to my chest. His eyes flashed technicolor under the strobe lights and it set off a feral blaze in them.

"You should know. She's your friend, isn't she?" He smirked as his fingers pried themselves lose of my aching bicep and pulled both my arms up around his marked neck. His right hand pressed against the middle of my back and the other gripped the bottom of my shirt, his fist digging into the bottom of my spine. He started to move along with the song, sticking his knuckles hard into my back when I didn't. I winced.

"It doesn't have to hurt as long as you don't resist. Make this easy on yourself, Ramona. At least for your friend's sake."

I didn't know what to do. I almost answered him with questions such as: "What are you talking about?" or "I don't know you, how do you know me?" and also, "Do you really think girls go for the abusive, gang banger act? So far, it hasn't done a damn thing for me except some partial bruising, and I don't feel myself about to swoon." I decided the dumb act wouldn't abet the predicament I was in and neither would me being a smartass. I bit my tongue and very _hard_.

"Dance," he demanded, his strong hands emphasized his command roughly. I bit my tongue harder as I complied, moving slowly with him. I felt disgusted physically, mentally, and emotionally. I remembered how sickened I felt to be near him when he had my hair tightly wrapped around his fingers, forcing my head back as the machete pressed against my throat. This was worse because I had less of a choice then than I did now. I could get him off of me if I wanted, but I had to think of Abby. Her life may be relying on me whether she realized it or not. I wouldn't risk it.

He didn't say anything, and I was too afraid to speak up, worried I might ask or say the wrong thing. His eyes never left mine and we glared murderously at each other. My hands balled up into fists around the collar of his shirt as the song continued and I felt myself getting lightheaded; I wouldn't be able to take much more of this.

"I think we may have some unresolved conflict between us," he breathed into my face, "and I don't know how you plan to settle it, but if it's a fight you want, I'm more than willing to give it to you."

"You're so arrogant to believe I want just you?" I finally found my voice. He didn't seem caught off guard, or anymore crack-brained angry for that matter, as he smirked down at me.

"Well, if we had met under different circumstances, I'm sure I would be."

"I highly doubt the circumstances would have to be different for me to feel the same way."

"That's exactly it, Ramona," he had me by the nape of the neck now, burying his fingers in my flesh. "They don't have to be different in order for you to be the same stupid bitch you were almost a year ago. You see your friend killed and you're messin' with the exact men who did it. Do you think yourself an intelligent person?"

"I don't think intelligence equals into it."

"What does? Cold, hard vengeance? You wanna play rough with the big boys, sweetheart?"

"I want back what you took from me."

"And what is that exactly, your innocence? Peace of mind?" He stopped moving and so did I. He brought his face closer to mine, his beard brushed against the side of my jaw and his breath was hot on my neck, "I don't give back what I take, but if you want compensation for your loss…," he stopped and his fist loosened from my shirt, dropping down below my waist. I went rigid as his hand slid down my thigh just below my skirt. He let out a deep chuckle, "I know more than a few ways to repay you."

I pushed against his chest fiercely, gaining temporary freedom before he pulled me back to him, smashing his mouth against my ear.

"You fuck with me and I'll kill your fuckin' friend and your family! You hear me? I've got enough problems without some bitch, hell-bent on petty revenge, trying to pick a fight with me and my boys! You don't wanna fair reparation, that's fine. Stop coming around my neighborhood, looking for us like you're begging for trouble or you might just end up worse than your fuckin' little friend!"

"Fuck you! I'll fucking kill you and your piece of shit friends!" I screamed, sobbing helplessly. I was losing it and I couldn't sustain the control I had earlier.

"Nah, baby. You're on my side of the track now. I say who lives, I say who dies. This isn't your war anymore," he growled, giving me one last derisive grin before pushing me away, making me stumble backwards into a group of people. He broke his way through the swarm of the dancing crowd, disappearing.

I rushed through the crowd, desperately searching for Abby everywhere. We had to get out of there and _now_. I was losing my composure. Livid and hysterical at the same time, I stumbled around the club calling Abby's name. A few people gave me weird looks, but most just assumed I was piss-ass drunk and laughed me off.

I needed to calm down. I couldn't let Abby see me this way. I didn't want her to know anything was wrong. I wouldn't let her in on anything that was happening. I had to keep her as safe as I possibly could and telling her about what had just happened just a mere few feet away from wherever she was would not be protecting her. I swiftly found my way to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face several times. I leaned against the counter, gathering any morbid reason I had for going on with my life and dried my face.

 _Don't think like that, you have a reason for living and you know it_ , I thought. A throe of sadness swept through me when I realized that it was neither my family nor friends anymore. I walked back out into the club.

"Abby!" I screamed when I saw her walking away from the bar and towards the dance floor. She was alone.

"Mona! Where were you? I looked everywhere for you!" Abby looked furious that she hadn't been able to find me. She had no idea I had been going crazy knowing she had been with a couple of Billy's guys. Thank God she hadn't left with any of them.

"Listen, I think we should go. I drank too much and got sick," I lied to her, hoping she'd see how sick I really felt.

"Oh, okay. I'll get us a cab. Come on," she grabbed my arm and helped me outside as she dialed for a taxi on her cell phone. When she had made the arrangement, she pulled me to the side of the club, leaning me against it. Cool air blew around us and dried some of the sweat that poured off of my body.

"You look horrible, Mona. I'm so sorry. You should have let me know earlier," Abby said as she brushed some damp curls from my face.

"Did you talk to those guys?"

"What guys?" A confused expression came across her face.

"The ones you went to talk to while I danced," I continued taking in deep, ragged breaths.

"Oh, yeah! Yeah, I talked to them. They were really nice, but kinda scary at the same time. Both had that bad boy thing going on, you know? Sorta hot."

"You didn't exchange information with them or anything did you? You didn't go off with them?" I didn't know why I was asking. If they really wanted to get to her, they'd find their own way.

"I got their numbers," she whipped out her cell phone again. "The older guy had a weird name, Heco. The other guy's name was Joe. Wanna see a picture of them?"

"What? You took a picture of them?" I asked, grabbing the phone from her. I looked at the screen to see Abby standing between two men, smiling happily and completely oblivious to the fact that she stood between the exact men who had killed our late friend, Delia. I recognized the thin man as Joe on the left; he wore a smug grin that looked just like his dumbass brother's. The other man, apparently Heco, I had not known exactly what he looked like until now. He was of Hispanic decent, with a bald head, goatee, and tattoos matching Billy's. He did not smile and his eyes were hard. He had an arm wrapped around Abby's waist, his free hand faintly flipping the phone off; I figured it was directed towards me. My hand tightened around the phone.

"Hey, easy on the merchandise. I told you to come talk to them with me!"

"Abby, don't ever call those guys. Don't answer their calls. Don't have anything to do with them. Do you understand?"

"What?" she gave me a confused look.

"Just do as I say. Those guys look dangerous and after what happened to Delia… I just don't want you to get hurt either. Please, promise me," I pleaded with her, taking her hands.

"Okay, I won't," she promised, looking hurt and worried. She fiddled with her cell phone for a moment before showing me she had deleted both their numbers and the picture of the three of them. "See? Are you okay?"

"Yeah… I just need to go home," I sighed, closing my eyes and fighting back the urge to vomit.

There would be serious hell to pay. Billy Darley and his gang weren't going to threaten my friends and family with the intention of getting away with it. I already let something happen once, and though I wasn't strong then, I sure as hell was now. Billy thought he had the blunt end of the blade, but in reality I was right there with him, pushing my own sharpened point directly towards his cold-blooded heart. I wasn't going to wait any longer.


	12. Chapter 12

**Part 12- These Things by She Wants Revenge**

Billy Darley walked swiftly down the block, followed closely by his friends. They walked with purpose and a sense of arrogance that never left them feeling short of superior. They weren't in their usual community of recreation and that left some bystanders a little wary of their presence. Billy wouldn't be surprised to hear the shrill cries of distant sirens soon. People always had to get worked up over nothing nowadays; they could never take care of themselves.

Never breaking stride, Billy pulled a cigarette from a crushed pack in his pocket and lit it, cupping a hand around his mouth. Inhaling deeply, he then let the smoke travel from his lungs into the cool night air, thinking about his latest encounter with Ramona. He wasn't sure he understood her. Of all the things a young, attractive girl could do with her time, she chose to chase around a bunch of men that she knew existed for destruction. She had seen firsthand the true gruesome colors of their corrupt souls. What bore her hollow is what gave them _essence_. They striped people of their pride, of their purity, and replaced in them the fear that they relied on; that they needed to in order for them to _control_. Yet she didn't necessarily seem to carry the same fear others did.

"What do you think? The skank aching for another confrontation?" Heco asked as they reached the two comparable mustangs.

Billy turned to look over his broad shoulder at Heco, his eyes narrowing. He cast his half-smoked cigarette into the street with a flick of his finger, embers still burning.

"Heco, what would be the reasonable thing for a girl to do: fight or flight?"

Heco's eyes narrowed into a glare similar to that of Billy's, scorching and determined. A lazy smile drifted up the left side of his face as he comprehended Billy's question. The crazy bitch had put up a fight the night of Joe's initiation, and although she had been quickly overpowered, she was apparently dumb enough to want a second one. The fun was just beginning, and he felt anticipation bubbling up inside of him.

"When?" He asked.

"Whenever she's ready, I assume. You guys think you can handle the suspense?" Billy asked with a joking grin.

"I think we can manage as long as she's the one giving the climax," Joe said, resting his arms on the hood in front of the open passenger door of the black mustang. Tommy gave out a wild cackle in response as he started making crude noises.

"Oh, mo-mo-mo-moooooonaaaaa!" He yelled into the night. Joe let out a snickering laugh along with the other guys.

"Enough dickin' around," Billy tried to sound serious, but couldn't help letting out a laugh too as the guys burst out in howling laughter at his retort. The guys disappeared into the cars, laughing and hollering.

 _This'll be too fuckin' easy_ , Heco thought as he situated himself inside the red mustang, grinning madly.

Billy climbed in behind the wheel of the black mustang, letting the engine roar ferociously to life. His hands tightened on the wheel as he sped off down the road, barely missing a car as he ran a red light. The guys flipped off and screamed at the screeching car with glee. The red mustang barreled past it in the middle of the intersection, meriting another blaring honk from the driver. Billy could hear them laughing maniacally as they rocked around their seats in wild amusement. Amidst all of the twisted joviality, he couldn't help but feel anxious anticipation at discovering what Ramona planned to do. It excited him. This was something completely different from their customary "street wars", as he liked to call them, where there could be a random drive-by of rival gangs, which were usually countered by vicious "warnings" from Darley and his boys, or when they had to collect overdue cash from dilatory customers. They weren't the type to lower their eyes in the face of a threat or take a step back for those unfortunate. And then there was of course, the occasional kill for a thrill which Mona and her friend happened to be two ill-fated victims of.

She was a first, and he was going to make sure he cherished every moment of what was coming.

* * *

After making sure I had been properly put to bed, Abby had left my room, but not my house. I figured she had either been interrogated by my parents or had been interrogating them. Whatever the case, I didn't like it. I didn't need anyone to be any more skeptical about me. I just needed the privacy to grieve and plan by myself without the input of someone else's opinion on how I should act and what I should do. I should have known going out with Abby would wind up as a mistake.

Now, the night after, I walked down a cold and lonely road, searching for a way to purchase my escape out of this misery I had buried myself in. I needed guns. Nice guns, but where would I find them? I had rummaged through my parents bedroom earlier that day while they were at work and I found my dad's small .22 caliber revolver. I contemplated using it, but decided six rounds wouldn't be enough unless I had fast fingers and exceptional aim, which I had neither. Plus, I didn't want my dad's name somehow tied back to the murders I was about to commit… or I hoped I committed, anyway. So, I was stuck in a rut with an 8 inch pocket knife, a nice roundhouse kick and small, but capable fists. Up against nine full grown men, I would be signing my own death sentence if I hadn't already.

I had deliberated over different ways I could purchase a gun, but came up short. I didn't want to wait to receive a permit to buy a gun from a legitimate shop. I needed something quickly. The only disadvantage I was taking with the idea I decided on was value and cost. That was buying them illegally. Who knew exactly what would be sold to me? It could look like a million bucks, but work like it was worth two cents and a pack of bubble gum. I'd just have to keep faith in my extravagant college savings to get me the good stuff.

So, back in the part of town that started this whole crusade, I wandered around, aimlessly searching for someone, anyone who could help me. I questioned just about every person who walked by me, so far with no results. This was taking a little bit longer than I was hoping, but what did I really expect. Just because I happened to be in the slums of the city didn't mean there was an illegal black market down here.

"Lookin' for somethin', sugar?"

 _Think again_ , I hoped.

I turned my head to see a young, scraggly man leaning against a brick building, bundled up in ratty clothing. The top half of his face was hidden in shadows from the hood pulled over his head, but I didn't have to see his face to know he was shooting me a leering stare. He rubbed the stubble on his square jaw with his thumb.

"Actually, I am. Think you can help me out?"

"That depends on what exactly yer lookin' for, sweetheart," his voice was deep and scratchy. He sounded like he had smoked a carton of cigarettes a day, but he looked like he might be into the heavier stuff. He looked like he might be able to get me what I needed.

"Guns," I didn't feel like wasting anytime with petty retorts. I was here for one thing and one thing only. The man's lopsided grin widened slightly as he pushed off the side of the building with one foot, approaching me.

"Guns? What's a purty thing like you lookin' for guns for?" He started circling me.

"My business. Are you going to help me or not?" I kept my eyes on him, making sure he kept a fair distance.

He stopped abruptly behind my right shoulder, bring his head down to look over my shoulder, "I think I can help you out, but for a price."

"I have money."

"Who says I want yer money?" His grin turned into that of the Cheshire cat's, nothing but teeth.

"How about you tell me how I can go about getting what I need and we can discuss payment methods afterwards," I suggested, looking up at him through my eyelashes in what I hoped looked a little bit seductive, anything to get this bozo talking. He responded instantly.

"Right this way," he gestured to a tiny alley way off to his right, waiting for me to walk in first.

"I don't know where I'm going."

"Of course you don't," he replied, before reluctantly dropping his hand and sauntering forward into the dark mouth of the passage. As soon as we were both shrouded in black, I could feel him stop in front of me and I knew what he had been planning.

As his arm swung out backwards to catch me in the head, I jumped back before bringing my foot into his stomach. He doubled over and let out a low grunt just as I my knee made impact with his face. He flew backwards, landing in a pile of trash. I grabbed him by his grimy jacket and slammed him face first into the nearest wall, keeping my right forearm against his neck and my knees digging into the back of his legs.

"Give me one good fucking reason why I should break your neck right now!" I yelled in his ear.

"Fuck you, stupid bitch," he panted, blood causing his words to come out gurgled as it ran down his face. I pulled out my pocket knife with my free hand and pressed it just under the bottom lid of his left eye.

"You know, by the way you were looking at me earlier I can only guess that having two eyes is important to you," I started to put pressure on the blade.

"Okay, okay!" He yelled in a shaky voice, "I know someone who can sell you some good guns, but it'll cost you."

"I've got the money," I growled, pressing the tip of the knife in just a little bit further. Any sudden movement of his head and he'd lose his eye forever.

"Bones Darley! He owns the body shop a couple of blocks from the Four Roses. He can give you what you need," he panted.

Bones Darley. Of course it had to come to this; the only way to defeat Darley was by the help of a Darley himself. There's no way I could just strut into his garage and expect to walk out unscathed with a handful a guns and a satisfied customer. I'd have to get someone to go in there for me.

"What'd you say your name was?" I asked the ruffian I had pressed up against the wall.

"Todd… Todd Lunsford," he gasped.

"Well, Todd, how about you help a girl out. Your eye for my guns. You willing to take the offer?"

"More," he said in a hard tone. Was he kidding me? I had a knife prodding his eye and he was actually going to demand more in exchange for helping me? I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"Five hundred. Two-fifty before, two-fifty after," I bargained.

"Deal, now get yer fuckin' knife out of my eye!" He screeched. I removed the knife, but kept my hold on his neck.

"This is how it's gonna work, I'm gonna give you the first part of our deal along with additional money to pay for the guns, get the best he has to offer. When you come out, you come straight to me and I'll give you the rest of your money. If you decide to run away, I will fucking hunt you down, cut out both of your eyes and force-feed them to you. Are we on the same page here?"

"Listen, I'll do what you want. Just let me go!" He screamed the last bit, his anger rising at his inability to protect himself against a girl. I took a couple of steps back and he staggered from the brick wall, coughing and choking. He looked up at me with a hateful glare. I handed him half his money.

"Well, you lead the way then," I smirked.


	13. Chapter 13

**Part 13- Building Steam With a Grain of Salt by DJ Shadow**

Todd walked into the body shop, rubbing at his left eye and twisting his head back and forth. When the bitch had pinned him to the wall, she had used the greater part of her upper body strength against his neck to hold him in place. She was strong and _fast_ , leaving a sore, throbbing ache pulsing from his shoulder to his jaw. He had noticed she was fit, but he didn't think subduing her would be much of a problem; however, she had controlled the situation quite more easily than he had anticipated. He didn't like the element of surprise, and much like his aching neck, his pride was bruised.

Todd made his way to the back of the shop, not making eye contact with anyone. When he reached the broad desk, he stopped and finally got the courage to bring his eyes up to peer at Bones Darley. He sat behind the desk, fiddling with a piece that might have once been in a car, but now lay scattered and dismantled. He worked while sweat bubbled up on his face and traveled down to soak into his shirt, his eyebrows puckering together over his glasses.

"Help you?" The portly man asked, his head still down.

"I wanna buy some guns," Todd said matter-of-factly.

Bones instantly stopped what he was doing and looked up at his potential customer. The man was fairly young, perhaps late twenties and obviously a doper. He had that look, and the fact he had dried blood caked all over his face and a fine bruise forming around his nose and under his left eye, Bones didn't bother giving him the benefit of the doubt. He also didn't expect this man to have much dough on him, so he decided to make this transaction as smooth as possible by nicely telling him to get the fuck out.

"'Fraid I can't help you, son. Why don't you try somewhere else."

"I think you can," Todd said, placing two thousand dollars in front of him on the desk. After the girl had handed him the bag of money, and he saw how much cash she really had, he had contemplated taking off with it. Before he could process this thought completely though, she had grabbed hold of him again and pushed her face just inches from his own. For a brief moment, he thought things might be turning around and he'd get what he really wanted from her, but when he felt the blade of her knife against his skin again, his hope dissolved quickly and so did his impulse to run off with her money. She was… _scary_ , as childish as it made him feel to think of a girl that way, and he didn't know what to make of that. He decided the safest way out of this was to do what she wanted and get five hundred bucks out of it. At least that'd be enough to support his "habit" for the next few days.

"Don't disappoint me, Mr. Lunsford. Depth perception is an important thing," she had threatened. His eyes traveled down from her eyes to the collar of her shirt. He had also decided that having two eyes was important to him too.

Bones' eyes widen as his eyebrows shot up, he looked back and forth between the money and Todd. His mood seemed to lighten incredibly.

"Well, don't let me keep ya waitin'," he said, grabbing the cash and getting up from his desk. He walked over to a wall, decompressing and turning a knob that blended into the wallpaper and opened up a large door to a hidden safe. Inside, guns hung suspended on the interior of the safe walls, powerful and beautiful. Todd's eyes glittered.

"This here," Bones said as he took out a gun, and placed it in front of Todd, "is a beaut and a beast. A Dan Wesson 10MM Razorback with a comp, an RZ-10. Makes you feel like you're carrying your own little army in one fuckin' hand."

Todd eyed the dangerous toy in front of him as Bones swung back towards the open door of the safe and grabbed another handgun.

"This baby is a 500 Smith and Wesson .50-caliber Magnum. A real sweetie let me tell ya. It's a double-action revolver, five chambers, and it's definitely one of a kind… I'd call this killer the king of handguns," He gently placed it down on the counter in front of them, keeping his eyes locked on Todd who marveled at both pieces.

"These both good guns?"

"I'd say they're both top of the line. It'll cost you a little more than two thousand for both, I'm afraid."

"Got anything smaller?"

Bones gave Todd a hard look, before turning back to the safe, producing a small, black and silver handgun, "NAA Guardian .380. Small, convenient, but gets the point across; easy to carry on ya without a holster too. Runs at about five hundred."

Todd nodded his head, looking at all three guns. He wasn't exactly sure what this chick wanted. She had specifically told him to get the best Bones Darley had to offer and these seemed good enough to him.

"I'll take them all," Todd said and pulled out another thousand from the girl's bag.

"Come on now, boy. How much you really got in that bag of yours?" Bones asked, leaning over the counter towards Todd with a defying glare.

"How much will all of this cost?" Todd swallowed back a chocking lump in his throat. He tasted the metallic saltiness of his own blood and grimaced.

"Well, I can throw in a second RZ-10, say… half off, 'cause you seem like a nice guy and all. A couple of holsters, plus bullets and the other guns… I'd say around forty-five hundred dollars. You got forty-five hundred dollars worth of people to kill?"

Todd looked down at the guns, assuming paying this much would be okay with the girl considering there was a lot more than forty-five hundred dollars stashed in the bag. He pulled out twenty-five hundred and handed it to Bones, giving him an extra thousand. He added it to the stack Todd had given him earlier and started bagging up the guns and other supplies.

"I think you'll enjoy these. Good fuckin' merchandise, I tell ya. And you're a good customer, a man who knows what he wants. I promise with pieces like these, they'll be sure to help with any bully who dares to cross your path," he said with a sarcastic grin, looking over Todd's face.

"They aren't for me," he said, giving Bones a hard glare.

"Hey, I'm just tryin' to get help out a good customer like you, mister… Whadya say your name was?"

"Todd Lunsford."

"Lunsford… Who're you buyin' these for?" Bones asked, sliding the money behind the counter and handing Todd the bag of guns. He wasn't necessarily keen on the fact that this Todd Lunsford guy was in here buying his good merchandise for some unknown person. He always liked to know who he sold his stuff too. Liked to know his customers were worthy of a purchase. Apparently, they were ample enough to buy forty-five hundred dollars, plus a little extra thousand, worth of valuable guns off of him. Yet, in a business like Bones ran, he had a lot of liabilities and one fuck up could cost him a lot. He didn't know why he trusted Billy and his nazi, dimwitted friends with his shit half of the time.

"A friend," his reply was short.

"Ain't my business then," Bones gave him a contemptuous grin.

Todd gave him one last glower before turning away and making his way towards the door.

"Oh, Toddy boy!" Bones called tauntingly, bringing up a shotgun from behind the counter and cocking it. Todd stopped mid-step and slowly turned back to look at the big man. "This little number here is the Remington 1740 double-barreled pump 12 gauge shotgun. You know how it's made, Mr. Lunsford? With two side-by-side Remington 870's. One shot and you can say hasta la vista to any limb it's aimed at. Now, you look like a guy who could really use his arms, somewhere and some way to stick your needles in ya. I shouldn't be expecting any trouble outta you and your mystery friend, should I?"

Todd gluped, shifted on his feet and shook his head, keeping his eye on the gun Bones held up.

"That's good 'cause if ya cause me any trouble, and I mean any kind of fuckin' trouble, I know your name, I know your face and I'll fuckin' find ya. Whatever brawn your friend has over you," Bones said, pointing at Todd's bloodied face, "will be like a fuckin' day-parade compared to what I can do to you."

Todd couldn't believe it. His eye had already been threatened, almost carved out of his fucking head, now he had to worry if he was gonna have an arm blown off by Bones Darley himself. Trusting this chick not to doing anything stupid was gonna be a major risk. He was beginning to think five hundred dollars was hardly worth the trouble, let alone the effort to keep his ass alive.

"Ya have a nice day now, and please, come again!" Bones laughed as Todd hastily made his way out the front door.

* * *

"Nice working with you, Todd," I said, handing him the rest of what I owed him. He snatched it from my hand, looking me in the eye.

"What are you gonna do with all of this shit?" He demanded.

"I hardly think that's any of your business," I snapped, ironically finding it rude for him to ask me such a question.

"No, I think it is. Ya see, if you decided to go on some shooting rampage or some shit and the cops find out you got these guns from Bones and come bustin' down his door in the middle of the night, he's gonna fuckin' put the blame on me. Personally, I like havin' two eyes, but I also like the benefits of having two fuckin' arms, too! Kinda makes livin' a bit easier," Todd replied in a frezy, working himself up. He was breathing heavily and he was fidgeting nervously. He also looked kind of pissed. I didn't really know what he was talking about when he mentioned having two arms, but I assumed Bones must have put a threat on him somehow.

"I really don't think that's my problem. We made an agreement before you even went in there, you got your money. If you're so worried about it, leave town. Sorry there weren't any warnings before," I picked up my bag and started to turn away before he caught my arm in a tight grasp and yanked me back to him. His fingers dug into my arm, trying to burrow their way through my clothes to my skin underneath.

"I won't hesitate to tell him you're the one I went in there for," he turned the threats onto me. I was hardly fazed.

"Todd, do you really think I haven't thought of that?" I pulled out my pocket knife and slammed it into his abdomen. There was a sickening ripping sound as his eyes bulged and the pressure from his grip instantly faded. Blood rolled out of his mouth, wetting the already dried blood that was lathered on there. I yanked the blade out of his stomach and he fell backwards onto the pavement.

"What the fuc-What the fu-," he couldn't finish his sentence. His hands and shirt were coated crimson and the deluge that poured from his abdomen made me think of am emptying dam. His eyes slowly fluttered shut.

I stood there, horrified that I had actually killed him. I had killed him. He wasn't moving, and that meant I had killed him. I grabbed my stuff and ran; ran as fast as I could away from there, tears blurring my vision. I hadn't planned on killing Todd. The thought hadn't even crossed my mind until I found myself involuntarily reaching inside my coat pocket, feeling that micarta handle.

I was shaking badly by the time I reached my car. I was nearly convulsing, my teeth chattering, when I parked in my driveway. I made my way inside and locked myself in the basement. I plopped the duffle bag on the floor and sat in front of it, trying to steady my nerves. I couldn't believe I had actually killed a man. The air around me was stale and I thought how Todd would never again have the pleasure to breathe. I hugged my legs to my chest, clawing at my scalp.

Why should I feel guilty, remorse or sorrow at his death? He wasn't a good person. He was a wanna-be thug, rapist, probably a murderer himself. I was ridding the world of one more of the billions of flaws that walked it. Why should I feel so horrible about it? It wasn't even necessary for me to kill him. Whether he told Bones about our exchange or not, Billy and his boys already knew plenty about me. After my encounter with him a day ago, I knew I was walking a tight line. They had caught on fast. I had been too reckless when I was snooping around, and now the lives of my friends and family were in danger. I couldn't let them have the chance to get close to them. I was willing to risk my life as long as they got to keep theirs. I didn't need someone like Todd complicating things. I wiped the tears from my cheeks.

I opened the duffle bag, peering inside at the heavy artillery. I took one gun out and boy was it heavy. Todd hadn't bothered elaborating what gun was which or what exactly they did, not that I gave him the chance. I'd have to rely on the manuals they came with.

"Fair enough," I mumbled to myself. I took the others out and examined them as well. They were different from the guns I had handled at the shooting range. A lot more powerful it seemed, but I would have to get use to them and quickly. I wasn't wasting any more time. Tomorrow night, I had decided, I was going to kill the Darley gang. I knew I wouldn't be shedding any tears for them.

* * *

Bones had followed the little faggot outside, keeping a distance so that he wouldn't hear his heavy footsteps and notice him. After pushing his way through the fence gates, Todd had crossed the street and disappeared behind a building.

"Fuck," Bones mumbled to himself, before scuttling to the other side of the scrap yard. He stopped at the fence wall, and tried to look around the corner of the building across the street. He spotted a scraggly, hunched figure that could be none other than Todd's as well as an additional one. This one, however, was short and petite with dark, curly hair. Bones' inquisition suddenly became a whole lot more interesting. He was working for a woman?

He didn't have time to speculate much more on the matter as he saw her unexpectedly lunge at Todd, stabbing him in the gut. He fell backwards, clutching his stomach and tried to push himself backwards with his feet. Bones couldn't see her face that well, but she looked satisfied as he finally fell still and she grabbed the guns, taking off down the street.

"Fan-fucking-tastic!" Bones mumbled under his breath, going back inside his office. He should have known better than to let that dumbass buy his guns off of him for someone else. He didn't know who this woman was, and she had to be into some heavy shit if she felt the need to kill her little helper. She must have plenty at her disposal, as easily as she had killed him, without a second's thought. Her unknown identity and eagerness to kill had Bones on edge and the mystery of what she was up to also had his aorta ready to burst. She could be a part of any of those fucking rivaling gangs around here, fighting for the ultimate power and control over Columbia. He didn't like the feeling of vulnerability and that was where he was.

 _Never indirectly sell your shit_ , he mentally yelled to himself. Now he had some trouble on his hands and the only person he knew to castigate had already bled to death across the street. He ranked the receiver of the telephone off of his desk, punching in a number.

"What the fuck do you want now?" He heard an annoyed voice demand on the other end.

"Billy boy, I got some trouble you need to take care of."


	14. Chapter 14

**Part 14- The Ghost by I Love You But I've Chosen Darkness**

They were at the old mental hospital, also known as "the office", where they cooked and stored most of their products. Only Bodie, Joe, and Heco were currently with Billy, gathering up more hits to sell on their corners. Billy had been in the middle of stashing money in his bag from sells earlier in the night when he heard his phone ringing from inside his coat pocket. He accepted the call, giving a curt greeting.

"What the fuck do you mean you got some trouble I need to take care of?" he yelled into the phone. The men surrounding him instantly stopped what they were doing and listened to Billy's side of the conversation.

"No, I think that's your damn problem. If you hadn't have been stupid enough to-" Billy stopped midsentence as a muffled voice bellowed from the other end; the guys knew it could be none other than Bones. Suddenly, Billy eyes widened and he swiftly turned towards the three men in the room with him. He snapped his fingers, signaling them to stand by him and listen; he turned the speakerphone on.

"- know who she works for. I don't care who she works for, I just want you guys to get the fuck over here and fuckin' fix it! You guys work for me, so stop playing with your dicks and get your asses up here! All of ya!" A click was heard and then a dial tone before Billy could utter another word. The three guys only caught the ending of Bones' rant and stood there confused about what was going on.

"What's this all about?" Bodie asked, looking at Billy who shoved his phone back into his pocket.

"The girl, she got a hold of some of Bones' guns. He thinks she's with some other gang and wants us to take care of her," he spat on the floor.

"What the fuck do you mean "she got a hold of some of Bones' guns"?" Bodie asked Billy incredulously.

"The fat shit said some guy came in there, bought them for a friend or something. He said he followed him outside to see where he was going and saw a woman stick him in the gut, grab the guns and haul ass away from there. He's obviously high off his fuckin' ass if he would sell his shit to a stranger."

"How are you sure it's the girl?"

"Because Bones said it was some young, curly-headed bitch and what other girl do we know runnin' around here, getting into our fuckin' business?"

"You don't think she'd go to the police, do you?" Joe asked.

"Well, Bones obviously thinks she's with some other gang, which she's either trying to help blackmail or sabotage us. Either way, he wants us to fix this shit he's started. You'd think the fat fuck'd have the motherfuckin' brains not to do something like this."

"Well, it's not like we weren't gonna take care of the bitch one way or another, dog," Bodie answered.

"Yeah, but she also didn't have a bag load of fuckin' guns, did she, Bodie? Now we got a bigger situation on our hands. Who knows what kind of shit she could pull with the type of artillery Bones sells!" Billy got into Bodie's face, his eyes bulging.

"I don't think it's worth losing our temper over," Bodie said with quiet anger. He tried to stay calm, but was finding it increasingly difficult with Billy constantly getting in his face. "I doubt she'd bust in here and start shooting us up anytime soon. We've got the same shit from Bones as she does, probably even better. She's getting bold, though, so we gotta get to her before she does anything impulsive."

"Such as kill a man?" Billy suggested. He wiped his nose and regretted doing the line of coke earlier. It was messing with his head and tonight was not a good time to be impaired. He laughed at the predicament they were in, shaking his head and turning away from all three men. He laughed again, running a hand over his shaved head before placing them on his hips.

None of them had thought she was serious when Billy reiterated the conversation he had with Mona on the dance floor, saying that she was going to kill them all. They had all laughed at the prospect, Billy being the only one concerned about the matter. He figured she might try for another fight, but didn't think she'd be capable of trying to actually murder him and his crew. He felt foolish for thinking so, but realized he hadn't swung too far from home.

"Come on, dog. It's fuckin' nine of us against her! You think we can't win this?" Bodie asked Billy, starting to let his pent up anger go. Billy turned to glare at Bodie over his shoulder.

"Bones is sure he saw her kill this guy, whoever he was?" Joe asked, trying to ease the tension between the two. Billy kept his eyes on Bodie a second longer, both men tense. He finally turned completely around, facing them again and looked over at Joe.

"He seemed pretty damn sure, the way he kept ramblin' on about it."

"So, we take care of it tonight then," Bodie demanded, still starting at Billy intensely.

"This is too fuckin' good!" Heco shouted suddenly. No one noticed how deliriously excited he had grown with every word they had spoken, "I call first fuckin' dibs!"

"Heco, this isn't like a fuckin' toy we have to share," Bodie turned his aggravation onto him. Heco laughed dementedly.

"It is to me."

Billy rolled his eyes, running both hands over his face, "Heco, you're high. Shut the fuck up... I want you guys to call up the rest of the crew. Tell them to get their asses over here, now," he ordered them, before turning away and walking into an adjacent room. His senses were in overdrive and he felt his head spinning. He didn't want his boys to see how vulnerable he felt with his anger right now. He had a hard time keeping himself from lashing out at Bodie just a few minutes ago. He felt he was slowly losing his mind.

 _Pull your shit together_ , he thought to himself. He wouldn't be able to get through this if he couldn't get his mind straight. _Save the rage for her._

She was the one, after all, who was causing all the tension between the gang. Ever since they had first spotted her and caught on that she was more than a typical dweller of downtown Columbia, they had been like a pack of rabid dogs at each others' throats. He wasn't going to lose control because of her. He worked too hard to get the status he was at now, and he would put a fucking bullet through his own brain before he would ever succumb to anyone.

 _"You're on my side of the track now. I say who lives, I say who dies. This isn't your war anymore."_ Billy remembered what he had said to her last night in the club.

"I say who lives," he said to himself, standing straight and pulling out his torch lighter. He flipped it open, striking the flame to life with his thumb. He watched the orange, blue glow, licking and dancing in the air as a small draft blew through the room, "I say who dies." He whispered, and with a flick of his wrist the lighter snapped shut, smothering the flame. Billy felt his lips twist up into a smile.

* * *

The hot water stung as it ran down my body, contrasting with the cold air around me; it caused my skin to rise in goose bumps. I let the spray weigh down my hair, water covering me completely. I closed my eyes, thinking about what had just transpired no more than two hours ago. The blade as it plunged deep into his stomach. The horrible sound it made as it ripped open his flesh, his eyes wide and disbelieving. I shook my head, squeezing my eyes tighter against the memories. The extra guilt I felt was a burden I didn't expect to have. It weighed me down, making me slump my shoulders in shame and remorse. What had I done? Even though I tried to convince myself that I had no choice, that he wasn't even a good person, I had still killed a man. What reason did I have for murdering Todd? I tried to focus on the thought that maybe I had saved someone's life by taking his. Saved the next person he had planned on mugging or worse yet, violating. I also wanted to think that I had been saving him too, saving him from himself. That still made me a murderer, just or not. I ran the hand that I had used to take someone's life through my hair, pushing down water through the long tresses.

 _You would be a murderer, anyway. Once you kill Darley and his men, any innocence you have left will be gone,_ I thought. It still didn't make me feel any better.

I had hidden the guns underneath the basement stairs after examining them, figuring out how each one worked and what damage they caused. I was especially intrigued with the two RZ-10s. They seemed powerful and elegant; capable of taking down a bull with one, smooth shot. I didn't think my parents would find them in such a short amount of time. They knew the basement was off-limits for the most part, since I had taken it over and remolded it to be my new gym. The expenses for my classes as well as a gym membership had been too much for them to pay, so I used all of our old, dusty equipment that had been stored away, finding use with them instead. It had worked out quite well, using all the advice I had gotten from the staff and other members before I left. It allowed me more time in my boxing classes and the shooting range as well. It was a lot more convenient, too. I also chose the basement as my place to ponder, to plan. I was down here a lot, and they knew not to disturb me often.

I hadn't asked them what they had talked to Abby about, or what she had said to them, but I figured it might not have been so bad. They both seemed to be in pleasant moods today, smiling at me with warmth rather than sympathy and regret. I'm sure she left out the drinking part, both of us sobering up fairly quickly when we left; her out of concern for my well-being, me out of anger and distress after my so-called "dance" with Billy. So many emotions had run through me, I was completely exhausted when I had gotten home, sleeping all night and through most of the next day. I felt rested enough now, though, and hopefully the feeling would last until tomorrow night. I was going need it for the events to come. Tonight, however, I wanted to spend my last few hours with my family. Though I fervently hoped I would get to see them again, I wasn't counting on it. The least I could do for them before I caused them anymore pain was let them know how much they truly mean to me. That I love them and Delia so much that I am willing to die for them. I won't tell them what I'm going to do. I'll just make it known that this may be my last night with them, ever so subtlety at least.

Frowning, I shut the water off, goose bumps rising on my flesh again as it had turned ice cold. I reached out, grabbing my towel to dry myself off. After wrapping the towel around my body, I headed to my room to change into my pajamas. I dressed monotonously, wringing my hair out and towel drying it before gathering dirty clothes scattered around my bedroom floor, taking them downstairs to the laundry room. Just as I pressed the button for the wash to start, I heard a crash come from the back of the house. I chuckled, figuring my mom had dropped something in the kitchen again, both of us usually being so clumsy. Then I heard her scream.

My heart kicked it up a notch as my stomach settled down to my feet. I turned, jogging of out of the laundry room and into the hall when I heard another crash and struggling. I could hear my mother's screams, but they were muffled this time.

"Annette!" I heard my father's strangled cries coming in the opposite direction. I whipped my head around towards his office as I heard a pop and a bright light illuminated his open door before it was followed by darkness.

"Randall! Ran-" my mom started to call, but was cut off.

 _This isn't happening, this isn't happening!_ I screamed silently. I didn't know which way to go. I was torn between saving my father or my mother. I turned my head back around to look towards my dad's office again, hearing struggles, but seeing nothing. I looked back down the hall towards the kitchen, but I was still blind as to what was actually happening. Either way, I was risking losing the both of them. I started towards the kitchen.


	15. Chapter 15

**Part 15- I Need Something Stronger by Unkle**

"Mom!" I screamed as I started to run down the hall, but I lost my footing as something slammed into me from behind. I heard a big whooshing sound as the wind was knocked out of me.

A gloved hand grabbed my shoulder and I was turned around onto my back. I saw the man named Heco hovering over me. He straddled my waist and I brought my hands up, covering my face as his fist swung down towards my head. He hit me hard just blow my right shoulder, but I managed to roll my body with the swing of his punch, lessening the impact. I brought the same arm he had hit upward and slammed my elbow into his cheek. His head jarred back and I brought my knee up, hitting him in the crotch and rolling him off of me. He landed on his side and I scrambled up, trying to make it to the kitchen to help my mother.

"Fucking bitch!" I heard him yell behind me and his hand caught my right ankle, yanking it back. I fell, catching myself with my hands and brought the leg up towards my body against his hold. I waited for him to pull back, allowing him to use his strength as I doubled it with my own and smashed my foot into his face. I heard an ugly crunching noise and didn't bother to see if there was any blood as he instantly let my ankle go, yelling and cursing in Spanish as I struggled forward to the kitchen doorway.

"Let her go!" I screamed upon seeing my mother fighting furiously against one of Billy's thugs. I ran forward to help her, but a second man popped out, surprising me and I dropped to the floor immediately as he swung out with the butt of a shotgun. This startled him and I slid slightly across the hardwood floor in his direction, bringing my legs around and under his before he could react. He fell to the floor in front of me. I kicked my foot out, catching him under the jaw when he quickly sat up and he fell back again, letting a shot ring out from his shotgun that shattered the window in our backdoor.

"Ramona!" I heard my mom scream and I jumped up to see her stilled in her captor's arms, a gun pressed to her temple. Her green eyes were wide and frightened. She looked completely helpless.

"I said let her go!" I screamed again, my voice more frantic than before. I wanted to rush over and pull her away from him, but I knew I couldn't. He had the gun and it was pointed at her, not at me. I'd rather him shoot me a million times before even holding that gun in her general direction. He gave me an evil smile, his teeth a brilliant white against his dark skin; it disappeared quickly.

"You're the one who brought this mess upon your family. Deal with the consequences," he said before throwing her to the ground, lowering his gun towards her.

"NO!" I charged towards him. I heard a shot ring out as I simultaneously slammed into him, sending us flying into the kitchen table. Lying among tipped furniture, I saw the man's gun resting slightly out of his reach. I scrambled over him and towards it, only to have him catch me by my right arm. I swung my left fist out and felt it impact with his skull. His grip remained strong on my arm, but he also let his attention fall from his discarded gun to me. I punched him a second time, hitting his throat which caused him to gasp and clutch his neck. Finally released, I turned my upper body to reach for the gun again. My hand closed around the handle as a boot crashed down onto my wrist. I loosened my grip involuntarily and yelled out.

I looked up to see Billy Darley, a stone cold expression across his face. He held my father by the throat who was covered in blood and beaten. His half-open eyes looked down at me with a horrified expression. Billy dropped him down next to me and he coughed violently once he hit the floor. His eyes were filled with tears, and he squeezed them shut as he turned his head towards my mother who lay still beyond my line of sight. Billy took his boot off my wrist and kicked the gun out of my reach.

"It's time this shit ended," his voice was gruff and he grabbed me by the nape of my neck, bringing my face up to his. His flipped open a lighter, the flame illuminating his face and emphasizing scars I hadn't noticed before scattered across it. His nose and mouth twitched.

"Leave my family alone! They have nothing to do with this!" I pleaded.

"I warned you. You knew the consequences, and now you're gonna pay."

"No!" I screamed and he pulled me to his chest, turning me around in his arms as he dragged me to the far side of the kitchen. I thrashed against him, trying to bring my arms up against his, but he fought mine down just as hard. The gang was crowded in the room, circled around me and my family. Each stared at me with sneering expressions while the guns in their hands pointed to the floor below them where my parents lay.

My dad reached for my mother, grabbing her hand and I saw her lift her head and turn towards my dad. She hadn't been shot, just stunned. I could see that now, and she looked at my dad, scanning his face with alarm. She turned her teary eyes up to me.

"Mona…" I heard my dad whisper. My eyes sweep to the right and found his broken body lying on the floor. He could barely lift his head, but he held it in the air and it bobbed unsteadily. His eyes looked into mine with anguish. I heard a soft whimper and looked back to my mother; her chin was trembling.

I felt my face scrunch up as tears began to fall. I kept struggling against Billy, but I felt so weak with fear. I was being careless in my fury, livid to the point that I was fighting in vain. I couldn't save my family this way. He flexed his arms, crushing my body against his chest and knocked the breath out of me. He wrapped his right arm around my throat while his left hand continued to restrain my arms by the wrists.

"Why don't you tell mommy and daddy what you've been up to, huh?" Billy spoke slowly in my ear, but loud enough that his deep voice filled the room.

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. If I opened my mouth, nothing but screams of pure rage and agony would come out. I didn't dare take my eyes away from my parents, filling my mind with nothing but their faces; imagining us somewhere else, anywhere, but here at this moment.

"Better yet, how about you tell them how we all came to know one another. How you started this mess," Billy stopped and brought his head around so that he could look me in the face. His right hand stroked back some curls against my cheek that were in his way. I felt him take a breath, "I think you owe it to them, don't you?"

I felt the pinch of forming tears in my eyes, and they coursed down my cheeks as my lips quivered. I shook my head, dropping it onto Billy's forearm; unable to keep looking down at them. I felt Billy's cheek press against mine, his beard and mustache scratchy against my skin. His lips started moving, "Aw, don't tell me you feel ashamed."

He released my wrists, bringing his hand in front of me. He held a lighter and he flipped it open, igniting the flame. It danced dangerously close to my face, but he brought it closer still. I could feel the energy radiating off of it, the heat hitting my face.

"Blow out the flame," he whispered.

"What?" my voice faltered. The flame flickered, almost disappearing, but regained its spark.

"Think of this flame as a symbol of their life," he gestured to my parents in front of us. "One breath it all it takes for their death. It only seemed appropriate that you'd have the honor."

I guess it would make sense. I had allowed this to happen in the first place, not moving fast enough, and not protecting them well enough; not protecting Delia… It had all come to this because of me and my stupid obsession with what I thought was justice. Now Billy was ridiculing me, forcing me to give permission for these men to murder my family.

I watched the flame burning brightly in the dark room, casting shadows. It shivered as a cool draft blew around us. A red blinking caught my eye and I realized we were standing by my backdoor, the broken pane emitting the chilly night air entrance. The red light was coming from our security system. If only I could turn on the alarm, maybe it would scare them off and my parents could get out of this in one piece. I just need to distract Billy somehow, someway.

My eyes circled around, taking in each cold glare of the men filling it. My eyes stopped on Heco. His nose looked horrible, blood clinging to his lips and chin where it had flowed out of it. He looked furious, and the gun he gripped involuntarily leaped up when my eyes landed on him. He quickly brought it back down and aimed it at my mother's head. I suddenly got an idea, and prayed to God that it worked. Whatever it was that I was going to entice in Heco, I hoped it was enough to distract everyone while I attempted to save my parents' lives.

I locked my eyes with his, narrowing my eyebrows and allowing a scowl to spread across my features. I turned my head against Billy's, trying to avoid the flame as much as possible.

"I wonder what it must feel like," I started. I could see the flame swaying with each word I spoke, but as far as I could tell, I wasn't in any danger of putting it out. I kept my eyes on Heco and continued, "Being a man as big as you. It must be sad at times, looking so tough with your tattoos and bad boy attitude… knowing you can't protect yourself against a girl."

"Fuck you! I could blow your fuckin' brains out right now!" He screamed, stepping forward and over my mother. He came swiftly towards me and Billy, his gun pointed at my head.

 _Good,_ I though, _just the reaction I wanted._

Billy flipped the lighter shut and reached behind him, bringing out a gun. He pointed it towards Heco, speaking slowly, "Calm the fuck down."

Heco stood right in front of me now, the muzzle of his gun pressed against my forehead. His nostrils flared as his breathing grew ragged, his nose whistling; a vein pulsed against his temple.

"Billy. Heco," I heard a voice to my left, but didn't bother to look who it was. "Look at you two. This is ridiculous. Let's just kill the fuckers and get out of here."

"Shut up, Baggy. Heco, back the fuck up, now," Billy warned, emphasizing with a thrust with his gun. I looked to see everyone was watching them. They grew timid; looking around at each other like the one of them might have the answer to know what to do. I slowly started to reach my left hand back, hoping that Heco would keep defying Billy and his gun.

"I'm not taking any more orders from you, Billy. I'm fucking sick of your and Bones' shit, acting like you both fuckin' own all of us."

"Heco, what the fuck are you doing man!" It was a new voice, and it shook slightly.

"This is fuckin' insane," I heard someone else say. They were dropping their defenses, turning against one another. My hand continued to reach behind me, feeling for the keypad.

"You sure you wanna go that way?" Billy asked.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the man named Bodie rush up next to Heco, getting in his face. My hand dropped slightly, but he didn't even seem to notice me. I started towards the system again, fingers grazing the bottom of it.

"Don't you fuckin' do it, dog. Don't you play it that way. You know damn well as the rest of us that we'd be nowhere without Billy. Don't you turn your back against us now," Bodie tried to convince Heco.

 _Don't listen to him, Heco. He doesn't know what he's talking about. Go on. Keep on point your gun at me. It might merit more than you expect,_ I encouraged silently. I trailed my fingers up the keypad, trying to remember which button sounded the alarm.

"Maybe if the asshole didn't spend so much time shooting up, he'd know what the hell he was doin' right now," I heard another voice which was followed by an exasperated sigh.

"Maybe if he did his damn job every once in a while instead of getting high, he'd feel more respected," someone else joined in.

"Will everyone just shut the fuck up already! We didn't come here for a fuckin' team evaluation!" Bodie yelled.

Heco hesitated and then started to lower his gun. His arm dropped until the barrel rested against my chest.

"At least let me do it," he asked Billy.

"That's not how I wanted to do things, Heco."

"Don't take my chance away, Billy. Don't treat me like that, man. She's mine."

"Heco, in case you forgot to realize, I'm runnin' this show. I know you were lookin' forward to this, but I'm callin' the shots and sayin' who does what, how and when. You had your chance with her, now back the fuck up."

Heco's eyes twitched and his lips formed a tight line. He took a step back, "And it's time I finished what I started."

My finger had just rested on what I thought the alarm might be when I was suddenly shoved to the left. I rammed into the counter as gunfire started to ring out. Shouting ensued and I heard scrambling. I turned my head to see Billy struggling with Heco; Heco trying to bring his gun to face me and Billy fighting against him. The other guys tried to pull them off one another, and Heco's gun flew out of his hand, skidding across the floor.

My parents scrambled out of the way, trying to head for the door, but two of the men went after them. They grabbed onto them, bringing them back into the kitchen despite their struggling and screaming.

"We need to get this fuckin' done and over with!" one of them shouted.

I looked to see that they had Heco subdued, Bodie and Joe holding him back. Billy readjusted himself before looking over at the two men who held my parents and then over at me. He started towards me and I twirled around, slamming my fingers onto the keypad. An incessant blare resonated throughout the house. I turned to see Billy's chest right in front of me. I looked up, meeting his eyes with a defiant glare. I knew the police would be here a lot sooner than they wanted.

"Shit! The fucking alarm!" I heard someone yell.

"We have to get out of here!" Someone else said as the phone started to ring.

"Not until we finish this!" Billy roared. He grabbed me by the hair, walking me towards my parents. The two men dropped them to the floor. I saw my father's body cover Heco's gun.

I started struggling against Billy, trying to buy time. I brought my elbow around, ramming it into the side of his face. He grunted before throwing me to the ground. He brought his gun up, aiming at my mother. I jumped up and charged at him, slamming into his side which sent us flailing sideways. His shot echoed in the small kitchen as I landed on top of him. I dug my nails into his face.

"Take care of them!" I heard someone else yell.

"Mona!" I heard my mother scream and before I could lift my head I heard several shots ring out. I was suddenly flipped onto my back and I fought frantically against Billy who was now on top of me. The butt of his gun slammed against my head. My vision swam and I could faintly hear the police sirens in the distance.

"We gotta go, dog! The police!" Bodie hovered over Billy who looked down at me with hate filled eyes. Bodie started pulling Billy up to his feet. He aimed his gun at me and before he could pull the trigger, I rolled to the side, the bullet splintering the hardwood floor that had been beneath me. The sirens stopped in front of my house.

I looked back to see Billy's boot crashing into my side with a sickening crunch. I grunted as I felt my breath vanish and a warm pain shot through my abdomen. My head started spinning again.

"Fucking run!" was the last thing I heard.


	16. Chapter 16

**Part 16- Miss You by Trentemoller**

"Douse it," Billy commanded. Immediately, his boys set to work covering any available surface of the house in gasoline. They started from the back, flinging the flammable liquid along the walls, counter tops, and various pieces of furniture as they made their way to the front door. They didn't bother with the upstairs, but instead made their way outside to flood the front porch.

The receding sunlight threw deep shadows cross the property, leaving the eight of them feeling safe in their delinquency. Not a car passed down the street and the only movement that they could find besides their own was the soft bustling of the late spring wind.

"Two of you, get the cars ready," Billy ordered. Bodie and a now ever obedient Heco promptly made their leave to ready their quick getaway. Billy reached to snatch a gasoline can out of Spink's hand and started trailing the foul liquid down the front steps and into the yard. The rest followed suit and soon they were standing behind him as he flipped open his lighter. He waited for the roar of two engines before he knelt, setting the damp grass ablaze. The guys jumped back as the flame grew and raced toward porch steps.

They headed out into the street, getting into the two mustangs as the flames entered the house, consuming the first floor. Billy stood at the open passenger door, marveling at the display before him. They had come back to the house to find the guns, ravaging the house and searching any place they thought she might have hidden them, but coming up with nothing. As a last resort, Billy decided to burn it down instead; figuring a little arson would destroy the guns if they weren't able to find them.

Billy turned, sitting down in the passenger seat of the mustang and shut the door closed just as it peeled away from the curve. Leaning back in his seat, he lit a cigarette, taking deep drags and watching the embers burn with each pull he took. Soon, Ramona Stone's house would be nothing but ashes, leaving her homeless and orphaned. Everything she loved, cherished, or found familiar would be lost to her forever. Just like her parents were, dead and cooling off in the city morgue… Much like his own baby brother.

The dad, that son of a bitch, had found Heco's gun. He had fired before any of them even knew he had it in the first place, hitting Joe square in the chest. They had scrambled out of there, no one quite aware he had been hit until they had successfully avoided being caught by the police. He had toughed it out for as long as he could, coughing up blood and going pale before finally slumping down in his seat. Hearing him whimper, feeling him cling to him as he bled to death in his arms, Billy had never felt such aching loss like this before. Not even for his mother.

It was a whole different ballgame now and he wasn't playing for shits and giggles anymore. The only thing he could see in his sight was Mona and her blood on his hands, washing away Joe's, redeeming him. He just had to wait until he could get her alone so he could finish what she had started.

He wondered what she was going through right now with the loss of her loved ones. How did she feel? What did she think? Did she feel herself going crazy with the pain of their absence? He hoped her agony was infinitely worse than what he currently felt, though he doubted she had ever known what it was like to be as close to someone as he had been with Joe. She would never know the pain that haunted him.

"An eye for an eye," he said to himself, and flicked his cigarette out the window.

* * *

"I want to see my parents!" I screamed at the doctor and Detective Wallis. At the current moment, I was being held against my will in a hospital bed and I was far from happy about it. I had woken up in the ambulance, the wailing siren pulling me out of my deep slumber. My head had hurt horribly and my vision was murky, but my thoughts had been clear about what was going on. Ever since then, I had been demanding to see my parents. It was now one day later.

"We know, Mona, but they are in recovery and you need to rest, too. You have a concussion and skipping around this hospital is not going to help you heal any faster," the doctor said. It was a woman this time, Dr. Castile; a colleague and shadow of my former doctor, Dr. Roderick. All cheers and smiles, it was obvious she didn't have the same bedside manner as he did, but then again that could be a misjudgment. Blame it on my raging temper.

"I couldn't care less if I was bleeding from every orifice in my body! I want to see them now!"

"Mona, you need to calm down. Right. Now," it was Detective Wallis who spoke this time. Her voice had a hard edge to it, and I could see her jaw muscles flexing when I looked at her. She came and sat at the bottom on my bed, perching on the edge of the mattress.

"I just want to see them. Please!" I cried pathetically. My fury at what Billy and his gang of idiots had done kept me in a tight vessel of suppressed violence. My body itched to strike out, to hit anything with enough force to atomize it. I wanted to beat the walls of this building and watch it crumble down to its foundation, turning it to nothing but dust and rocks.

"Honey, we know this is tough for you right now, but everything will turn out A-okay," Doctor Castile patted my arm, smiling sweetly, "But for the moment, we cannot allow you to see your parents. They are doing fine, both in stable condition and they are under twenty-four hour surveillance, so nothing is going to happen to them, all right? Once I think you are healed enough, I'll seat you in wheelchair and roll you down there myself! How does that sound?"

Right now, I'd give anything to take a swing at Dr. Sweet-Smiles. I moved my arm out from under her touch.

"How about I let you roll me any damn where you please if you stop patronizing me like I'm some fucking child and start treating me like a damn adult?"

"Mona," Detective Wallis warned. She looked at the doctor who cleared her throat, then smiled, excusing herself. When the doctor had shut the door behind her, Wallis turned back to me. If looks could smack you in the face…

"I'm gonna say this only once because I'm gonna be working with you for the next couple of weeks and I don't want to have to be looking out for eggshells the entire time… Every person who comes into this room, talks to you, or glances in your direction is not your enemy. I understand that the past year has been a rough one, but that does not merit you the excuse to act like you are the only one who is worth a damn. We are trying to help you, Mona, and your parents need you to be strong now more than ever."

"So, what? You want me to pretend life is nothing but a ray of sunshine and that I should forget what happened to me and my parents last night? I'm sorry if my initial response to the whole damn situation isn't to sit here and mewl over what a great fucking paradise this hospital is and grateful I am for it."

"Okay, so you're angry. A natural response, but that doesn't mean you have to treat every person you come across like they are the ones who did this to you," she shifted, turning her body to face me. "It's okay to be scared, Mona. To feel vulnerable. You can't go through life with this constant weight of hostility. It'll break you down and take everything away from you…"

I looked down my sheets, trying to block out her voice. I didn't want to admit that she was right, because I could feel nothing other than anger. Even if I tried to let it go and feel normal again, it only doubled, protecting the fragile girl I used to be. I couldn't forsake it for the virtue of forgiveness either. Allow Billy and his men to have my consent that what they did was okay and no hard feelings. That they had lived much more troubled lives than I, my parents, or Delia had, making their actions plausible in what I was supposed to consider morally correct. No matter how hard I tried to see it that way, I just couldn't make myself throw up my white flag of surrender.

"Mona, don't you think that it's already taken enough?" Detective Wallis asked. I thought she meant my happiness and peace of mind, but what she said next made the breath catch in my throat. "This heedless anger and guilt, you've turned it into vengeance, haven't you?"

"What?" I whispered, snapping my head up to look at her.

"There's no other explanation that I can see. Darley and his gang show up at your house late at night and start attacking your family after almost one year of your first encounter… How does that make sense? What provoked them? You didn't take Joe Darley to court, setting him free. That should make them thank you rather than want to pack you chock-full of bullets. What did you do, Mona? What did you do to make them try to kill you and your family?"

I wanted to say that I hadn't done anything. That they had just shown up, out of the blue, looking for an easy fight. That it was in their nature to hurt innocent people, terrorizing and murdering them. Of course, I wouldn't be lying if I told her that, but I also wouldn't be telling her the truth. The truth being that I had been following them, plotting their demise, buying illegal guns and then killing a man for no reason other than he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I had been the one to stir everything up and pour it out, creating a mess that I couldn't seem to clean up. I wanted to say that I wasn't responsible for my parents' injuries, but that lie didn't sound real, even to me. I took in a shake breath, feeling the cool air fill my lungs.

"I… It didn't turn out how I thought-"

"Detective Wallis!" a young officer burst into the room with widened eyes. "We got a situation."

"What?" we both asked at the same time.

"Hold on," Detective Wallis said, and walked out the door, the young officer trailing behind. I sat up in bed, leaning on shaky arms as I tried fruitlessly to hear anything through the closed door.

What the hell did he mean by situation? What had happened? I know my parents weren't in immediate danger at the moment, because they were here, under twenty-four hour surveillance, right? I swung my legs over the side of the bed, resting my bare feet on the cold tile. Before I could even attempt to stand up, which I would have been a no-win situation considering how weak I felt, the door swung inwards and Detective Wallis stepped back in.

"Get back in bed," she ordered.

"I want to know what the hell is going on," I demanded right back.

"I think you need to get back in bed before I tell you," she stood in front of me and the look she gave me made me slide my legs back under the scratchy covers. Albeit, ever so slowly.

"What?" I asked, and I could feel the heat drain out of my body when her scornful look turned grim.

"We just got a call from the station. Apparently, there's been a fire."

"A what? Fire? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well," she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger. She met my gaze again, "The fire was at your house."

"What!? My fucking house burned down!?"

"Just be thankful you weren't in it when it happened. We're suspecting arson, but no one in the neighborhood saw anything."

"Ha, of course they wouldn't," I started to laugh.

"Get a hold of yourself, Ramona. You need your sanity and right now. I do, too. You still haven't answered my question."

"I'm sorry, what question? I'm having a bit of trouble wrapping my brain around anything else other than the fact that I was nearly orphaned and now I can officially call myself homeless. And Dr. Shit-For-Brains said everything was going to be A-okay! No, I think you need to leave."

"Mona, we aren't fini-" she started to say.

"I said leave!" I screamed at her and finally I was in charge of what was being said and done. She looked at me for a moment, seeming to ponder if she should continue to interrogate me, but she shook her head in defeat and walked toward the door. When she had it opened, she paused and turned back to me.

"I'm gonna get my answer. I can't help you until you start to cooperate. Think of your parents, at least," then she turned and walked out. I grabbed an open coke can, sitting on the table beside me and flung it at the door just as it slammed shut.


	17. Chapter 17

**Part 17- Eyes On Fire by Blue Foundation**

There was hardly anything left of it. It sat in ruin with soot so black it blended in with the night sky and smoke still rose from the rubble, merging with the wind. My house, destroyed. I stood there, looking at what had been my home for most of my life. I felt new pang of loss swept through me at the sight, but I didn't have any time to waste mourning over it. I needed to somehow get into the basement to see if the guns were all right. I just hoped that the fire hadn't reached them and completely ruined them.

I walked up the front lawn and the scorched grass was brittle beneath my feet. As I walked up to the front porch, I felt the full assault of the acrid stench of smoke hit me. It burned when I breathed in, but it wasn't enough to choke me. I still brought my shirt up around my mouth and nose to filter out the little bit of smoke that still lingered. Before leaving the hospital, I located my pajamas that I had been wearing when I was brought in by the ambulance and put them on. From there, leaving was a little bit trickier. I sort of felt like a criminal, sneaking my way out of the hospital as I tried avoiding Detective Wallis and the guarding police officers. In fact, I was a criminal, a murderer. Even if they didn't know it, it still didn't stop me from feeling that way and fleeing made me feel more lawless.

I cautiously climbed up the porch steps, testing the floor for any weak spots before using my full weight. It was tedious work, but barging in recklessly would be unwise. I wanted to move faster, _needed_ to move faster, but in order to save myself and my family I had to work slowly. I made my way into the foyer and looked up to see stars. The second floor was almost completely gone and I heard it creak above me as the wind blew through. I started to sweat; my nerves were wound up so tight. Any minute the walls could collapse, crushing me or I could fall through the floor, breaking a leg or my back. I hesitated, one foot in front of me ready to move forward and the other edging back, eager to retreat back to safety.

 _I don't have a choice. I need to fix this._

I moved forward and made it to where the basement door used to be. I stood above the staircase, and I could see the fire department was able to put the fire out before it completely devoured the lower level. Unfortunately, the upper half of the staircase was charred and disintegrated. I couldn't see another way down other than trying to jump over the gap and onto the remaining lower stairs. They didn't seem to be burnt too badly and even if my weight happened to crush them, I would land on the concrete foundation below. Not a comforting thought, but what other option did I have? I braced myself.

As gracefully as I could, I leapt from the doorway and onto the fourth step leading up from the basement floor. I heard a crack as my weight shifted downward, but my reflexes were quick as I leapt again and felt my feet hit stable ground as the stairs fell in on themselves, leaving only the bottom step intact. Quickly, I looked under them and sorted through the soot and debris for the guns. I finally felt the nylon of the duffle bag and pulled it from beneath the rubble. It didn't feel as if it had been burned, but I couldn't tell in the darkness. I would need to find some light.

I looked back up the stairs. No way would I be getting out that way. I would have to climb out through one of the basement windows. They weren't very big, but I figured I would be small enough to fit through one. Before I left though, I wanted more clothing than the shorts and t-shirt I wore. I certainly couldn't face Billy's gang looking like I had just rolled out of bed. I could see it in my head: me, walking up to them with a bag of guns, ready for a slumber party.

 _Hey guys! I brought the entertainment, hope you brought the popcorn!_ I shook my head with dark amusement. At least some humor still lingered in me.

By memory and partial light that shone through the two blackened windows in the room, I reached out for the closet doors. Depending on the current season, my parents and I would store our clothes that weren't needed for that time of year. As it was now springtime, we had stored our winter clothes in the closet a few weeks back and I now searched for a pair of jeans, a shirt and a jacket. Finding what I needed, I quickly dressed. I grabbed a pair of boots too, deciding they'd be sturdier than a pair of tennis shoes. I made my way to the window, surprised the glass hadn't burst under the heat of the fire. I unlocked it and slid it open, pushing the bag out before me. I scurried against the basement wall and out onto the singed backyard, gasping for clean air. It felt so nice. With a surge of energy, I grabbed the bag and ran towards the detached garage at the edge of the yard.

Upon entering, I flipped the light switch on and set the bag on the ground, opening it up. The guns glistened in the light and I could tell they had been untouched by the fire. I took a deep breath and felt tears sting my eyes. It felt unusual, crying over guns, but I was just so happy that they were unharmed. They were almost like my pets as I sat there examining and stroking each one. Getting myself together, I used the little sink to wash myself off. I ran my fingers through hair and thought back to my parents in the hospital. I had visited them before I left, making sure they were okay. They had both been shot. My mother had been hit once in her right shoulder which shattered her collarbone. Other than that, she had just been roughed up by Billy's thugs. The emotional toll was worse than the physical damage, but she was okay for now. My father, however, had been shot three times.

The first two hit just below his left shoulder blade, puncturing his lung. The doctors managed to stop blood from accumulating by using a chest tube, suctioning it out and re-inflating his lung. Considering where the third bullet hit, the first two seemed like a scraped knee. The last one hit him in the middle of his back, brushing just past his spine and saving him from permanent paralysis. Instead, it entered his liver which resulted in major venous repair and a hepatotomy. I had been told not to expect him to make it out of surgery, but he had made it through. I saw him last because he still had not gained consciousness from the attack. I talked to him anyway, and I told him everything, apologizing through my tears. He lay there, so still and white like he actually was dead. Seeing him in that state added fuel to the already raging fire inside of me, and it was after that visit I had made my great escape.

Now, here I stood with guns scattered at my feet, disposed to my bidding. I loaded each one, placing the RZ-10s in the small of my back under the waistband of my jeans. I put the revolver in my coat pocket and the guardian in the side of my boot; it was a snug fit. I found the pocket knife in the bag as well and slipped it in my front jean pocket. I couldn't bring any spare bullets, but I brought two extra magazines for the RZ-10s.

Grabbing the extra key to my father's car, I got in and started the engine. As I waited for the garage door to go up, I prepared myself for what was about to happen. I was going to find Billy, his gang and kill them. I was going to do it, and I never felt so excited for anything in my entire life. I twitched involuntarily at the adrenaline that rushed through me. So many months of waiting and the time was finally here. I was ready, and I hoped they were, too.


	18. Chapter 18

**Part 18- Getting Away With Murder by Papa Roach**

I hastily made my way up the cracked concrete steps of the old abandoned mental hospital. This was the place where Sammy told me Billy and his gang made their drugs, and the first location I thought to look. Four Roses had crossed my mind, but I figured barreling into a crowded bar and opening fire wouldn't be a smart idea, so I started my search here. I wasn't exactly sure of what I expected to happen, and I knew that they would have the advantage with me coming onto their territory. I would have to be as quiet as I could be until I found them and hopefully pick them off one by one if I could, and if that wasn't an option then I just hoped my reflexes were sharp enough.

Inside it was dark. There were occasional fluorescent bulbs flickering on every now and then, but no light sufficient to guide the way. What little light that could be granted allowed me to glimpse the graffiti that dirtied the walls which covered nearly every inch of the deserted hospital. If the numerous collages of skulls, curse words and gang symbols weren't enough of a decoration for the hospital, garbage and debris also littered the hallways. This did not help my advancement into what I _hoped_ would be my victory, but I continued despite this slight setback. Every now and then I would hit a glass bottle with my boot or step on some broken glass. I would have to stop, hold my breath, and listen for any sign that someone had heard or spotted me. I felt that I was nearly to the heart of the hospital when the hallway I was walking came to an end and branched off into new corridors to my left and right. I saw steady light coming from an open doorway a few feet to my left, and I stepped back against the wall of the dead end hallway as a shadow passed over the threshold. Voices soon followed.

"I don't know where the fucking bottle went. You had the damn thing last."

"No, you were supposed to hold the shit for me while I cooked them damn stuff."

"Listen, it's not that big of a fucking deal. Just go get another one from the fucking supply."

"Fine, I'll go do your damn job sense you can't seem to do it yourself." I heard something slam down on a table then swiftly approaching footsteps. I hurriedly made my way inside the first room that I could find and hid next to the door.

"Fucking dumbass, can't even keep up with one damn bottle," One of Billy's thugs walked into the room not taking notice of me and walked to one of the various boxing scattered on the floor. He bent over one, grabbing something inside then standing back up. I was too frozen to move or think of what to do, but I needed to do something fast. I was only a matter of seconds until he spotted me. I pulled the revolver from my coat pocket. When he didn't move right away, I quietly but quickly approached him with my gun thrust out in front of me. He seemed to be gazing out of the nearest window and I wanted to take my shot, but also didn't want to give myself away. I stopped when I noticed a large metal canister on the floor. A piece of duck tape was stuck on the front labeled "red phosphorus" in sloppy handwriting. Holstering my gun again, I snatched it up off the floor and wrapped my hand tightly around the cold handle.

"Looking for something?" I asked, and his distraction from the window faded as he swung around to face me.

"Who the hell-?"

The confusion dropped from his face instantly as I lunged at him. He brought his arms up defensively, but I kicked my left foot out and caught him under his ribs. He cried out and lowered his arms. I took the opportunity to slam the canister down on his head as hard as I could. He flailed out and grabbed onto my shirt as he fell to the floor. I stumbled after him, but caught myself with my free hand. I got up on my knees as he fumbled for something. Straddling his torso, I put my knee in the crook of his arm as I heard the cocking of a gun. He cried out.

"Spin-!" he started to scream, but I brought the canister up above my head and then down into his face. Abruptly he was silent, yet I wasn't satisfied. I hit him again and again. The vile substance splashing inside the container and his blood splattering, but I couldn't stop. It wasn't until I heard the crack of his skull and a voice that I stopped. My breathing was ragged and hard, my arm was aching; I felt like an animal.

"Yo, Dog. What's taking so fucking long? This shit's drying up… Oh shit!"

The shot reverberated through the small room and out into the hallway. He jerked back as the bullet went through his head, spraying the hallway walls with blood. I put the guardian back into my boot and thrust myself off of the floor and out into the hallway, stepping over the dead body. I withdrew both RZ-10s from my waistband and advanced to the lighted doorway. There was a giant room filled with tables and suspended baskets each filled with a red substance. The stench was strong and I found it more difficult to breathe here rather than in the scorched ruins of my home. No one was in sight, but I was sure my shot could have echoed throughout hollow corridors of the hospital. It was no secret that I was here anymore.

* * *

"What the fuck was that?" he spoke to himself.

It had sounded like a gun shot from down stairs in the lab. He couldn't be certain, but he figured maybe some of the B-Street might have come in and tried to take over. Get some free drugs to sell while taking the few of them out. Seemed possible, yet no other gunshots ensued. Odd if there was a gang battle going on down there. He snatched up his cell phone and called Billy's number.

"Answer the fucking phone Billy," Heco paced the room. He really didn't want to go down there. Not that he was scared or anything. He loved the action, just not the mystery.

"Fuck!" he yelled when Billy failed to answer. He decided to call him one last time before finding out what was happening. He knew he was meeting with Bones, but he felt this was an emergency enough and didn't feel anxious about interrupting. He descended the stairs as he heard the first ring.

* * *

I advanced into the room, my eyes darting everywhere for any sign of movement. It was cluttered and I didn't want to look anything over; make a mistake like I already had so many times before. I wasn't sure where I would go or what I would do if I made it out of this room, out of this building, but by the end of the night I was going to make sure my family would never be hurt by them again. And Delia… It was because of her that I was here. Her absence was a hollow mark in me, and the violence that was left behind ate at the edges of what was left. Like a parasite, I needed to get rid of it, get it out of me. Revenge was my remedy.

A cock of a gun, then a boom and glass shattering over me; I dropped to the floor as another shot rang out, hitting another glass contain except this was contained liquid, _burning_ liquid. I screamed out and wiped my exposed hands on my jeans as small red welts started to appear. I quickly slid to the nearest table and kicked it on its side so it faced where I thought the shots were coming from. My hands shaking and burning, I held the guns up to my face and slowly peeked out from the table. _There._

I recoiled when he fired another round from his shotgun and I was lucky his aim was a bit off. I shot back up as wood splinters flew around me and started shooting in his direction, alternating between the two guns in my hands.

"Fuck!" he yelled. His right arm dropped limply to his side. I stood up from, keeping my aim on him. He fell against the wall, hitting some cans and buckets on a nearby workbench. Then something caught my eye.

"Fucking bitch!" he screamed, clutching his right shoulder, "You're fucking dead, you hear me! Dead! Just like your parents and your stupid bitch of a friend!"

"Not before you," I said and aimed at a can that read flammable. I didn't have much time to duck back down as the can exploded and as I fell to the ground I heard a simultaneous scream as well as the all too familiar sound of a gun. Catching the breath that was knocked out of me, I rose up from the floor and looked over to where one of Billy's men lay dead. He was slumped against the wall and fire burned holes through his clothes. His exposed skinned was horribly burned, but I didn't think he seemed to care too much considering his face was gone. That and he was very much dead.

I looked down at the shotgun that lay a few feet from him, facing in his direction. He must have dropped it when the ether exploded, causing it to go off and consequently shoot him in the face.

"Lucky you," I turned towards the small fire that still raged on the work bench. It wouldn't be long before it reached other cans, causing them to explode. I needed to find Billy and the rest of his guys before the whole place blew up.

* * *

"Son of a bitch," Billy exasperated as he looked down at his cell phone. Heco was calling again for the second time.

"A problem, son?" Bones asked, obviously agitated. They were in the middle of an "important" meeting, if any sane person could call the planning of new ways to make and solicit drugs important. Many would call it a felony.

"Jamie, Tommy, I want you guys to go back to the office. See what the hell Heco wants," Billy commanded two of his men. As they turned to leave, he yelled after them, "And tell him to stop fucking callin' me! The fuckin' prick…"

"You done? Can we continue with the discussion at hand, Billy Boy, or are one of your boys gonna come runnin' in here peeing his pants and interrupt us again?" Bones mockingly asked Billy.

"No, go on," he sighed, and looked down. He glanced towards Bodie who sat beside him.

 _It's gonna be a long fuckin' night,_ he thought to himself.


	19. Chapter 19

**Part 19- Dragula by Rob Zombie**

He skidded to a stop at the foot of the stairs and listened. He had heard the gun fight and the explosion after the second failed call to Billy. He wasn't sure about what was going on, and he didn't know if he really wanted to be aware of what was going on, but he couldn't leave his boys to fend for themselves. He took two swift steps to the open doorway, and came to a halt when he laid eyes upon her; the girl. He instantly withdrew his gun as did she.

"You?" Heco asked, amused. Then his eyes drifted to the growing fire on a workbench in the far side of the room, and Baggy…disfigured. The smile dropped from his face as he took in the sight of his late friend and he felt horror as well as rage bubble up in him, "You fucking little cunt!"

"Can't stand the sight, can you? Seeing a friend bleeding and helpless…Dead; unable to do anything about it. How does it feel?"

"We should have fucking slit your throat that night when we had the fucking chance!" Heco yelled. His face turned red and spittle flew from his mouth.

"That's something we all can agree on, but that didn't happen, did it? Instead you chose to make my life miserable, a living hell. I'm only giving you the same," she said as she started inching closer, circling him.

He became nervous. Where was everyone? She certainly couldn't have…killed them all, could she? That was ridiculous. She was just a fucking girl; no more than 120 pounds probably. Baggy's death was just unfortunate luck and she wasn't about to hit gold again. Not with him.

"You think you can just walk in here and take us out? Well it's not gonna fucking happen! You're over!" His finger pulled the trigger at the same time that she kicked the gun out of his hand. Throbbing with pain, he swung his fist at her, but she caught it between her forearms and kicked him again; this time in his crotch. She hit him in the face with her gun before letting him fall to the floor.

Fire swelled up into his belly as he coughed and gagged, clawing at the floor. Her boot crushed into his side, causing the little bit of air in his lungs to billow out. Black spots danced at the edges of his vision and he gasped for air. He felt himself being turned on his back and something encircling his neck.

"What the fuck?" he rasped.

"For Delia," she whispered in his ear and tugged violently on the cord around his neck.

The tug was so hard she lifted his back off of the floor. As he struggled against the pressure on his neck, he rose to his knees and he grabbed her leg, yanking it out from under her. She fell to the floor and the cord loosened enough for him to catch his breath. He swung his fist out, hitting her hard in the jaw and she cried out from the force. Not surrendering her grip on the cord, she wrapped it around her hands and pulled hard.

"Bitc-!" he started to scream, but she put both feet against his chest and pulled on the cord as tight as she could. He coughed and choked. Spit dribbled out of his mouth and his eyes turned blood red, bulging. He pounded his fists against her legs, clawed at the cord around his neck that was turning raw and bloody. Blood vessels must have burst in his eyes because soon blood was welling up in both of them and pouring down his face. She went for one last, final tug with as much force as she could muster and pulled as she pushed her feet against his chest at the same time.

He saw the blackness return to his vision, felt his lungs burning and his head exploding. He never knew what it felt like to die, and he decided in those last few seconds that this wasn't the way he wanted to go out. He always thought he go out fighting gracefully, respectfully. Head held high and still firing his rounds with his last breath. Instead he was dying at the hands of a young girl; completely succumbed to her. He felt no pride or fulfillment, and as the darkness overtook him he started into her face; with the last flutter of his heart, he saw himself mirrored in her eyes.

* * *

I heard a sickening crack and let his body fall limply to the floor. I slowly let go of the cord, indents deep and purple in my hands. I backed up away from him, unable to take my eyes off his blue and bloodied face. I snatched up my guns, repressing the urge to empty my stomach. I started retracing my steps, heading back for the door; for air. I ran out of the room and over the dead body of one of the men I had killed. As I came to the end of the corridor, I heard the first explosion soon followed by others. The fire had gotten to the other containers.

"What the hell was that?" I heard a voice up ahead of me. I held my breath and flattened myself against the wall.

"Go, go, go!" They rounded the corner running. I shot five rounds into the first guy, and he fell face first to the floor.

"Jamie, no!" The second guys looked up to me as I fired another round and he fell against the wall. I walked towards him, gun pointed at his head and pulled the trigger, but all I heard was a click.

"Should have aimed better the first time," he said and grabbed the gun in my hand, yanking me to him. I brought my second gun up, ready to shoot him, but he snatched my hand bring it around my back, causing me to drop it. I screamed out at the pain.

He slammed me up against the wall, grabbing a handful of my hair and bashed my head against it. Vertigo over took me and he yanked my head back. Before he could bring it forward into the wall again, I reached my right hand back and clawed at his face. I placed my left foot against the wall and he let go of my hair, taking hold of my hand. I put my right foot on the wall and pushed against it, sending us backwards.

We scuttled back and he spun me around, throwing me into a window. I felt shards cut into my face and the blood start to drip. I didn't fall through, but I fell to the floor instead and on top of the shattered glass. He grabbed my feet, dragging me toward him. My shirt rose and glass cut into my exposed stomach, embedding into my skin. I let out a groan and dug my nails into the floor, but to no avail. Then I noticed a particular large sliver of glass.

I started kicking my legs, making him lose his grip on me. I struck my foot into his knee and as he cried out, I grabbed the sharp fragment.

"You're gonna pay for what you've done, you fuck," he said and grabbed the bottom of my shirt, pulling me towards him again. I flipped on my side and caught hold of the sleeve of his leather jacket. Using the bulk of my upper body strength, I brought my arm around and buried the shard upwards into his neck.

His eyes widened, I kept hold of the glass, holding him up. His hand fell from my shirt and I rammed the glass deeper into the back of his skull. Blood spilled from his lips and onto my hand. I let the shard go and he fell to the floor, motionless. I wiped my hand on his shirt when suddenly his pocket lit up, vibrating. Curious, I stuck my fingers inside, pulling out a cell phone.

I flipped it open; one text message.

"Once ur finished, cum back 2 the shop. Bones has shit 4 us 2 do."

The sender was Billy.

* * *

"Where're your fuckin' goons at, Billy? You boys sure do like to waste my time," Bones asked, sitting back in his chair and resting his hands on his large belly. Billy sneered.

"They're on their fuckin' way," he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, checking the time; nearly midnight. He had texted them fifteen minutes ago. They should have already been here by now.

"Well, they better get here fuckin' soon. We don't have all night for this shit, ya know. Speaking of shit, how's life been for ya, Billy? Any new women in your life? Someone you can bring home and introduce to your dear dad?"

"Listen, ya fat fuck, I'm-"

"Billy!" Bodie interrupted him, grabbing his shoulder, "Come on, dog. Chill."

Billy shrugged Bodie's hand off his shoulder, keeping his eyes locked on Bones'. It took all his might not to jump across that desk and jam a gun in his face. He broke eye contact, putting his hands on his heads and breathing slowly through his nose.

"Yo, I'll go start the car and we'll go pick them up. I'm sure everything's all right, just some bullshit as usual," Bodie said, patting Billy on the back and walking out of Bones' office.

"Ya know, I can't put up with this shit for much longer. All I ever do is give you fuck-ups break after break and I'm not sure if I'm capable of giving you another chance," Bones got up from his desk and placed his palms on the cool glass. Billy dropped his hands from his head and looked down at them, sighing.

"I don't know what your problem is," Bones continued, "or what's goin' on in your life that you can do a simple fuckin' task for me, but I'm wearin' thin here, son. After aaaalll the bullshit you've pulled this past year, I'm startin' to really wonder if you can take care of things after I'm gone."

"Yeah, and who the fuck says I want to take care of your shit!" Billy yelled as he turned around to face Bones.

"What, you got dreams of your own?" Bones chuckled. He took of his glasses and rubbed his eyes, "You can barely take care of your men, yourself. Hell, a fuckin' girl cost your dipshit of a brother his life."

"You fuckin' leave him out of this! He never did shit to you!"

"Yeah, he never did shit! He was worthless just like you!"

A gunshot suddenly sounded from outside and both men turned to face the front of the shop.

"What the fuck was that?" Billy asked when suddenly the office phone started to ring. Bones slowly reached for the receiver, his gaze still on Billy. After holding the phone to his ear for a moment he held it out for Billy. He walked up to the desk, giving Bones a wary look before taking the phone and putting it up to his ear.

"Billy, she's-" Bodie's voice sounded from the other end, but was finished by another gunshot.

Billy yanked the phone from his ear as it started to ring from the high frequency of the sound. He looked back to see Bones digging in his safe for guns. Billy dropped the phone, walking to him. Bones tossed him a shotgun.

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."


	20. Chapter 20

**Part 20- Carry Me Home by SOHN**

I left the body of the man whom I knew to be Bodie slumped over the steering wheel of Billy's car. Thankfully, his head came to rest on top of the wheel instead of in the middle of it, saving the quiet serenity of the night. I made my way through the junk yard I had sent Todd in only a few nights ago. It felt strangely conventional like it was any other professional business. It had a cordial atmosphere except in the uncultivated kind of way. I knew it was only a façade.

The plan was still set in place. Act on instinct, don't let my guard down for a second, and kill Billy Darley whether or not I made it out alive myself. Being so close now, I felt adrenaline surging through my veins. I felt more awake, lighter on my feet and stronger than I had ever felt before. I took this as a good feeling and only hesitated briefly in front of the shabby front door where a sign read: "Sorry, we're closed."

I shot off the lock and kicked in the door, not bothering to see if it was really bolted or not. They already knew I was here and I didn't want to waste time by politely knocking. As soon as I stepped inside, the lights went out.

 _Uh oh,_ I thought. If not being on unfamiliar territory was bad enough, I would have to learn how to navigate it in the dark. Billy's advantage had just doubled, giving him the upper hand. He was the big boss now; my final mission in the fucked up ending of this game. I never thought this would be easy. I had readied myself for whatever may come, yet apprehension was present inside of me.

"Ya know, it's not polite to shoot someone's door off its hinges," a deep, rough voice came from somewhere in the darkness in front of me. Heavy and slow footsteps echoed in the small lobby and I pinpointed the source of the noise coming from my front left.

The darkness was not so deep that objects could not be made out. The full moon helped to illuminate what little it could and as my eyes adjusted to the obscurity of the room I saw a large silhouette standing just before the threshold of an open doorway. He knew I had spotted him, and he stepped forward, lessening the space between us. I put my hand behind my back, taking hold of my RZ-10.

"Is that my gun you got behind your back?" he asked, looking down at my waist and then back up. When I didn't answer, he gave a slight smile and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. He put them back on, "You got a lot of fuckin' guts comin' in here…breakin' my shit…and usin' _my_ guns," he exclaimed, "to do the job."

"They aren't your guns anymore," I said.

"No, that's right. You got some druggy twerp to come in here and buy them for ya. My guns to kill my boy…But you gave him the ol' boot, the stick in the gut and he was out of your hair. Just like you wanna do to Billy, hmm?"

I was slightly shocked. How did he know that I killed Todd? I didn't show the wonderment on my face, but continued to act nonchalant. Don't let your guard down, that was part of the plan. Billy's father, Bones, started to pace in front of me. He stopped briefly in front of the hazy window, moonlight glowing on his plump features.

"So, how come you managed to cause more trouble than any asshole, gang lord, drug dealer in this city? There are a lot of 'em out there, yet you are the only one who keeps courage under fire."

"I'm not after petty things like drugs or a sense of higher respect. I-" I was cut off by Bones' booming voice.

"Ya only want what ya can't have back. So, takin' the life of others is supposed to fix that… I fail to see the difference between your right and Billy's wrong," he chuckled.

"No one ever said I was right, but the all scumbags that I just killed deserved what I gave to them. Billy's getting his next," I said ardently.

"Oh, I doubt that," he spoke softly. He pulled out a gun, aiming directly at me. I threw myself to the right as he fired, firing rounds back at him. His bullet grazed my arm, tearing a hole through my jacket and cutting me deeply. He fell back against the counter as mine took a direct hit. He wasn't dead, but he was down and seriously wounded. Before I could fire another round, strong arms wrapped themselves around me, bringing my raised hand crashing into my side. I accidentally released another bullet from my gun, nearly hitting my own foot, and I jumped back from the closeness of the hit. My bodyweight falling back into Billy's chest, we stumbled across the threshold of an open door before collapsing to the ground.

His crushing grip loosened as I landed on his elbow, and he yelled out at the pain. I pushed myself away from him and forward into the room. I spotted my dropped gun as well as a shotgun nearby. I lunged for my own, but Billy caught my foot and pulled me out of reach. I turned onto my back and looked up at him hovering over me. I tried to kick him anywhere I could find vulnerable, but he caught my foot again and gave my leg a painful twist. Horrible burning swelled in my thigh and I screamed at the agony of it.

He bent down, grabbing the front of my jacket and dragging me up so that I dangled helplessly in front of him. He spun me around and slammed me against the wall, causing my breath to dissipate from my lungs. Spinning me again, he hurled me down onto a table and I landed on several things there were hard and puncturing. Incapacitated, he took the opportunity to strike me in the face several times. Blow after blow felt like I was being pelted by rocks.

"Not so fuckin' powerful now, are ya?" He yelled, grabbing my jacket and shaking me.

 _Do something!_ I commanded myself, but my arms and head felt heavy. I started to kick; hitting my foot in his side, trying to push him away from me, but he hold was too strong.I put my hand out, reaching for his face and clawing, but he grabbed my wrist and fended me off.

 _The revolver!_ My free hand searched for the handgun hidden in my pocket. When I felt the cool metal I pulled it out and tried to fire, but forgot to cock it in my haste. Billy grabbed the barrel, twisting it out of my hand and hitting me in the head with the butt of it.

Groaning, I fell on my side, my legs dangling off the end of the table and Billy stepped back, breathing raggedly. As he was catching his breath, I was catching mine as well as trying to regain my senses. It didn't take him long to recover and he pushed my shoulder, causing me to fall against the table onto my back again. With one hand he grabbed the collar of my shirt, lifting me up so that I sat at the edge of the table and he moved my legs out of his way. He grabbed my face with his hands, squeezing and eliciting a groan of pain from me much to his pleasure.

"I guess I underestimated you, huh? Never thought a sweet, young girl like you could take on so much at once," his fingers starting to dig into my scalp, tangling my loose hair. "I'm glad it came down to this, just me and you. We've reached each other way beyond a personal level," he laughed.

I attempted to struggle against him, thrashing my legs and digging my fingers into the sleeves of his leather jacket. This only seemed to piss off further as he took hold of my revolver, depressing the hammer and the cylinder clicked into place. He shoved the gun under my chin, bringing my head back by my hair.

"It's a shame I have to blow your fuckin' brains out. You're a tough girl. Could use you as part of my gang, but wait…I don't have a gang anymore, what's the fuckin' point?!"

"Such a lost cause, I almost feel bad about the whole thing," I bitingly replied through the pain.

His grip tightened as he jerked my head violently back and then forward; he edged closer and his face was right above mine. His gaze was so piercingly fierce that even in the shadows of the body shop his internal intentions we pertinently clear. He didn't need to speak.

"Well, why don't you allow yourself to make me feel better about it," he said as he drug the gun from my chin to the collar of my shirt.

"Fuck you!" I screamed, struggling against him again.

"Come on! Why're you playin' so hard to get?" He asked and hit me upside the head again. "You wanted me so much before!"

He slammed me back down on the table, sending another shock of pain up my spine. Yanking me back up again, I thought he was going to hit me, slam me back down on the table or worse yet, shoot me in the head. Instead he did something completely out of my notion that I froze with total confusion. As he pulled me back up from the table he thrust his lips against mine in a hard, rough kiss.

If I could have, I would have fought against him, but the abrupt randomness of it left me astounded and paralyzed. I knew that Billy Darley wasn't a sane person, but this act seemed out of character from how I thought he felt about me before. Reaching for any sense that I could, I broke through my immobilization and starting pushing against his shoulders. This only encouraged him as he pulled my head back further and slipped his tongue into my mouth. I screamed against him.

As unexpected as he had kissed me, he pulled himself away looking slightly accomplished and significantly more dangerous. He put the gun back to my head again, panting.

"Just a little goodbye kiss," he rasped, and I felt the smooth coolness of the revolver against my skin.

 _This is the end_ , I thought. I had already fought so hard against him, but he had me cornered. I was so tired and all the training I had endured the past year felt like it was all for nothing. I thought I'd walk out of this winning, or die winning at least, but he outmaneuvered me. I only had one more thing to act on. Before he could pull the trigger, I pushed my face against his, our lips meeting once more. At first he froze and I thought my attempt at reclaiming control was in vain, but he quickly recovered himself and kissed me back.

This was not the direction I wanted to take. I didn't even _know_ this direction was a possibility, but I was using it to my full advantage. I wasn't sure what my next move would be and then I remembered the guardian in my boot. He deepened the kiss, pressing my face closer to his with a desperate moan.

 _Great distraction…for him,_ I thought. I brought my left hand up his shoulder and to the nape of his tattooed neck while at the same time sliding my leg up his thigh, reaching for the handle of the gun concealed inside my boot. I didn't quite make it as his hand that held the revolver dropped to the small of my back, pushing me forward against him. My eyes flying open, I repressed the urge to push him away and reached into my boot again.

Gun in hand, I let go of the nape of his neck and reaching behind me I pinned his wrist and the revolver. I pulled away from his lips and pressed the guardian into his stomach.

"Was it good for you?" I breathed and pulled the trigger.


	21. Chapter 21

**Part 21- It's Alright by Fractures**

" _We're going live now with Jorga Miles on the scene, Jorga."_

" _Thanks Pam. I'm here in front of Bones' Body Shop located on Knox Abbott and 12_ _th_ _. What you are seeing here behind me is the gruesome crime scene of what police believe was a gang fight. Several gunshots were heard coming from this building late last night, and 911 calls were answered just shortly after 1 o'clock this morning. Bones Darley, the business owner, was found severely injured by a gunshot wound to his chest, and a body was also found in front of the shop with a gunshot sustained to the head, but the fight didn't stop here. We've gotten word that six bodies have been found in the charred ruins of Marywell Mental Hospital which has been abandoned for well over a decade. The start of the fire is believed to be that of various accelerants located inside of the hospital in what authorities say is a meth lab. Some of the bodies found inside the ashes were not so severely burned that they were unrecognizable and there are telltale signs of possible multiple murders as well as arson. We are currently unsure on what the connection is between Mr. Bones Darley and the men found inside of the hospital, but we do know that he had large supply of illegal guns and drugs as well as money that is thought to be the profit from selling these items. Mr. Darley is currently recovering in Providence Hospital. This is Jorga Miles coming to you live with WIS News."_

* * *

From the lobby across the hallway, the voice of the reporter had drawn Detective Wallis' attention to the TV screen. As she listened to the midday report, she turned back to the window of the hospital room where Annette Stone lay with Mona by her side. She held the sleeping woman's hand, her own eyes closed and wet with tears. She hadn't said a word when she walked back in, bloody and beaten. Any attempts to stop her from getting past hospital security had been futile as Mona found her way hastily to the room that her father occupied. When she moved to see her mother, Detective Wallis had grabbed her gently yet firmly by her elbows, stopping her.

"You're gonna have to tell me what happen some time," she had told her. Mona gave no response back and Detective Wallis hesitantly granted her entrance to the gloomy room that held her mother.

Now watching the two, she wasn't sure about what to do with the girl. She knew that Mona was the one responsible for what had happened, but the knowledge rested solely on her shoulders. She never believed in going against the law. Hell, _being_ the law was her job, but at the scene before her eyes she just couldn't bring herself to be angry at what Mona had done. In fact, she felt herself being completely sympathetic to her.

"What're you gonna do detective?" turning away from the two women, she faced the young officer who had questioned her.

"Get a doctor to admit her to the hospital, have her in bed and healing as soon as possible. No one does anything with her until I give an order," she replied.

"Got it, detective," the officer turned away and headed for the nurse's station.

She turned back to the door, looking inside through the small window again. Resting her head now beside the woman's shoulder, Mona looked as if she had fallen deeply asleep; her face stained with dried blood and tear streaks. A cloud then shifted in the sky and the sun shone brightly into the room which enlivened the heavy atmosphere. It was such a moving moment that Detective Wallis felt herself become tender, and she made her final decision to let Mona go. She decided to drop the case completely as well.

She turned away, intent on giving her new orders to the officers on the floor when something caught her eye. Quickly, she whipped back to the window and searched Mona's face. She was still in the same position, breathing shallowly. Furrowing her eyes, Detective Wallis walked away from the door and towards the nurse's station.

 _How odd,_ she thought to herself, _for an instant, I thought saw her smile._

* * *

 _"Pam Teller here on WIS News 10 with the developing story. Police have now confirmed the possibility of another victim being caught in the open fire of what they think was a gang fight. Suspicious amounts of blood were found at the scene of Bones' Body Shop, but a third body has not yet been recovered. Confused, police are uncertain if it could be the blood of Bones' eldest son, Billy Darley, or of the ones responsible for this crime. We do know that Bones Darley's son, Joe Darley, was recently murdered, but we do not know by whom. Speculation leads back to the possibility of a gang fight as his two sons were affiliated with a gang of their own. The current whereabouts of the aforementioned Billy Darley are unknown, but the police are investigating his disappearance and his involvement in last night's events."_


End file.
